Book Slut: Or Why I’m reading 5 things at once.

Promiscuity is perhaps one of the least sought after characteristics on the spectrum, but somehow, every time I go outdoors…or more shamefully, on the internet… I’m looking for new hook-ups.

Young, old, funny, serious – I’m not fussy. Sometimes I’ll even hook up with more than one in a day – sometimes as many as 3 – and a sneaky nooner on my lunch break, too.
It’s only a matter of time before I get a serious papercut.

The horrific truth is that I am a book slut.

It started when I was very young. I had a stable reading life – I had old favourites that I would visit time and again, like good friends – and now and again I would flirt with a new story. Sometimes I’d keep it around, other times we’d break it off after the last page and go our separate ways.
Sometimes I’d set the book up with a friend or relative, if I thought it was “their type”. Pretty standard.

I always prided myself on having utmost respect for the feelings of the book – granting it the time to speak, and listening to its story intently.
I never thought about another book whilst I was spending time with one.

I maintained this literary monogamy until very recently.
In fact, I was 100% faithful to books until May 2013.
May. The month of Infidelity.

Right now I am juggling relationships with several different texts – from several different genres – and bizarrely it does feel very much like trying to keep several flighty relationships on-the-go without the other parties finding out.
For shame, though, I have also found myself thinking about other books whilst I’m reading.
I’m sure they can see it in my eyes. I’m not invested. I’ve been messing around with other books.

Just this lunchtime I was reading Story of a Soul by St Therese of Lisieux but thinking about Gideon Mack by James Robertson.
This evening, I have been reading How to Gain Friends and Influence People and my mind has wondered to a splendid afternoon I once spent with Love That Dog by Sharon Creech in the sunshine.
I cast my mind back to less meaningful rendez-vous – with Dan Brown, Stephen King and Nick Hornby – fun but hollow – and then lament over long-extinguished passion for Ian McEwan, Carol Ann Duffy and Christopher Moore which I can never read for the first time again.

So… why am I reading 5 things at once?

The sad truth is that I haven’t come across any book lately which has totally gripped me.
I am flirting about, winking at novels left, right and centre.
I’m uninspired.
I’m bored.
I don’t want to read Twilight.

I want another Lamb, which I can laugh guiltily at, whilst silently hoping the Lord will forgive me.

I want another To Kill a Mockingbird which I can secretly fawn over Atticus Finch’s incredibly sexy morality to.

I want another Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night where I can be tangled and twisted inside in the hope that an entirely fictional little boy will be OK.

I want another Harry Potter, where even 6 years after reading the final word, I still subconsciously solve things the Hogwarts way before applying “muggle” logic.

Can anyone help me get my groove back?

Won’t someone teach me how to be faithful again?

kit

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2 Comments

Filed under My Life

2 responses to “Book Slut: Or Why I’m reading 5 things at once.

  1. I cant read a few books at a time.. i’ll get confused. LOL.

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