Most of you know that I read a lot. I have a hard time explaining sometimes why I read so much, nor why I get a certain pleasure in just amassing books. I have approximately 780 books in my house; I say approximately not because I guessed, but because I may have missed a few while counting. I won’t say I have read them all, but I have probably read at least 90% of them. Suffice to say, I like reading.
When I have headache, I read and the headache goes away. When I’m pissed at the world, I find a book and a dark cave and chill in a pleasant elsewhere. Forget about the knowledge and ideas passed along via the written word, reading a book brings a calm to my crazy NADD-driven world.
That is from a blog I read, Rands in Repose from a guy who is a software manager. But that is irrelevant to this discussion. He sums up how I feel about books quite well.
As vices or habits or neurosis go, collecting books is one I can be proud of. I hope I never stop. What am I reading now? The Player of Games by Ian M. Banks. Before that? The Last Theorem by Aurthur C. Clarke and Frederick Pohl. What’s next? I can’t wait to find out.