I have this incurable disease called bookaholism. I fully expect to meet my demise under an avalanche of books.
In an attempt to decrease the odds, I began to weed out my collection a few years ago. One way I did this was to put together a basket of books and donated it as an auction item...specifically a bunch of books about writing that I knew would never have their covers cracked open by me again. Hey! Maybe the winner gleaned a few nuggets of knowledge from them.
I also packed up a box of books dealing with a subject I was no longer interested in and donated them to my local library. I even listed a bunch on Amazon and sold a few there.
But despite my efforts, it seems to me these critters must secretly multiply.
Last year I surrendered to the siren call of an E-Reader and requested one as a birthday present. My husband readily acknowledges he is an electronic dinosaur so I did the seeking and purchasing of a Kindle Fire. Surely now the ever-encroaching tide of books would come to a stop.
Not so. Now I find myself cribbing minutes to read the growing list of downloaded e-books on my reader. Just yesterday I made a stop at the local Goodwill store and walked out with a sack of books.
To be honest, only one of them is for me...the rest are to be given away.
There's more than one way to control this disease.
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