I am of course talking about monstrous TBR (to be read) piles. Or in my case - the TBR Mountain Range. I'm beginning to think you could see it from space.
I am a librarian, so it figures that I'm obsessed with the printed word. Hell, it's my bread and butter. But why do I keep spending money on books when I literally have others that have been waiting to be read for years. Yes, years.
I've been pondering this quite a bit lately and here are my conclusions:
- I discovered romance right after college. College graduate + first real job + disposable income + no more mindless homework + discovering used bookstores = spending spree!
- Print runs. Largely a mass market paperback genre, books go out of print quickly, so gosh I better buy it now or I won't be able to find it later!
- The blasted Internet! Why oh why did I join all those reader's lists? They keep recommending books and I keep buying.
- Reviewing. Never smart. I discovered authors. I glommed backlists. I have less time to read books in my TBR. Stupid Wendy - really stupid.
- New job within 2 miles of unorganized UBS. Unorganized = browsing = impulse buying. Stupid Wendy - really stupid.
I know - I'm not normal!
Also, I'm toying with the idea of recounting the TBR. I'm not sure I want to do this. Part of me finds the idea horrifying, the other part is morbidly curious. Right now I'm leaning towards just remaining ignorant.