Last week, the Rotary Club was holding a book sale at a mall near where I live, so I decided to check it out. I really enjoy shopping for books. In fact, taking home a new tome to read would be an essential component of my perfect day. Going to the library is just as good, but the public libraries are too far away from where I live, and UFV’s library is no good if you want a novel to read. So for me, it’s pretty much the local Coles (limited selection), or book sales like these (few and far between).
The funny thing about this is that I don’t even read half the books I buy, and half the books I do read I only get halfway through. A lot of the time, acquiring the book brings more pleasure than actually reading it. It’s a shame really, I don’t read nearly as much as I used to because I don’t have the time anymore, or at least it feels like I don’t. I really ought to finish all the half-read and unread books overflowing from my cluttered bookshelf, but I just can’t resist the allure of finding something new, and bringing it home with me. If I keep up like this, I’ll end up sleeping on a hoard of books like some kind of literature dragon.