So I stopped at the library after work yesterday to pick up a CD I’d been wanting to listen to, but can’t ever seem to find on the shelf.
Reserves are right near the door, so I could have stopped there, checked it out and left — which was my intent. But no, my brain had other ideas and I found myself walking past the books-for-sale and the 7-day loans (for the most popular books!) and deeper into the stacks of the library.
In no time at all, I had a pile of books in my arms.
And when I got home, I dove right in…finishing one entire novel, reading 76 pages of a second, and (sheesh, help me now) 47 pages of a third (this due to the fact that I couldn’t decide which to read first.) While I was reading second, the third just sat beside me, accusingly…aching to be read. I couldn’t help myself.
To make matters worse, I’m already reading a fabulous novel which I’m reviewing for SFReader (Elaine Isaak’s The Singer’s Crown …and I have Beth Bernobich’s Passion Play on tap to review for the Goodread’s First Reader program.
Good thing I’m a fast reader.
Still…it’s like a sickness, this reading thing. Just like writing (I can’t stop myself from doing that, either.)
Anyone else addicted to reading?