Lurking with books
I love lurking with books.
Let me explain. I am foremost a writer. (Okay – if you’ve read my About page I was sidetracked in teaching for 35 years).
Because I am writer I am also a reader.
Because I am a reader, I love books.
Because I love books, I lurk in bookshops. A lot. Sometimes too much.
Because I spend so much time in bookshops I buy far too many books. I’m going to have to make a few extra bookshelves very soon. (I also love making things with wood.) I am also going to have to earn a great deal more from my writing in order to feed my book addiction. (I recently read on someone’s blog that they had a book “addition” problem. Yeah – I have that too. I’m not sure if it was a typo or deliberate, but I like it.)
I have two pieces of sad news about books:
- I have just found out that a major Australian bookshop chain is about to open a new store right here in my home town of Murray Bridge. Previously I had to drive an hour to go to any large bookshop. Now it will be only five minutes away. Poor me.
- This morning I checked Darren Rowse’s ProBlogger site. He relates how he spent several hours in a Melbourne bookshop reading about himself in a book. Now, that’s rather funny – and also a little sad. Not sad that he wants to read about himself but sad because I can’t yet do the same. I must keep at this writing game, become moderately famous and then be able to spend time in a bookshop reading about myself. The ultimate ego trip.