Collecting books

One thing that makes me happy is being notified that a book I have reserved is ready for collection at the library. The days, weeks and sometimes even months I've spent waiting for it have come to an end, and I can finally begin the highly anticipated read.

However, sometimes the highly anticipated moment of collecting the book is much more disappointing than it is fulfilling. This generally happens when I've had a particular edition of the book I’d like to read in mind, and then the edition I’m given is completely different to any one I've seen before. It’s like a blind date gone horribly wrong – you have an idea of what the person will look like based on a picture you've been given of them (athletic with neat and tidy hair), and then it turns out they've put on 20kgs and are now sporting a bright green Mohawk. Of coarse there’s nothing wrong with letting go of yourself and changing up your hairstyle now and again. But as someone who struggles with the unexpected, scenarios like this one can be rather unsettling and disappointing for me to say the least.

   

All of this can make me seem incredibly shallow (and partially unstable) when it comes to collecting books, but unfortunately that's simply what happens sometimes*. There's just certain covers I get attached to which make me believe that that and only that particular version will make my reading experience the most enjoyable one I can possibly have with the book. I can't explain the logic behind this reasoning, but book cover designers and advertisers would definitely be pleased with the effects of their campaigns on me.

Nevertheless, once I've recomposed myself, I will eventually rise to the challenge of reading an edition of a book I have been unprepared for. While it can be a bit awkward to begin with, I remind myself that despite the initial setbacks, everything will actually be ok because the story is still the same on the inside as the one I was originally interested in.

And in the end, that’s all that really matters.


*I would like to emphasise the sometimes, because this doesn't happen every time. Honestly. 

Choosing books

One of my favourite pastimes is strolling into a library, with no particular preference for what I'll pick to read next, and browsing the shelves until 'the one' catches my eye. When it does, I'll just know that it'll be a fantastic read, and the mission will be a fait accompli. It's one of the greatest feelings of satisfaction that I can come by; particularly for someone as indecisive as me. It'll be as if all of the stars have aligned perfectly in unison. I'll then skip merrily to the borrowing counter with my new treasure in tow, and an explosion of confetti will ensue in celebration.

Other times, a number of books will jump out at me simultaneously, all claiming to be 'the one'. Suddenly, I'll find myself inundated by a plethora of books all grasping for my attention and pleading for me to read them with their puppy-dog eyes. As you can imagine this can be rather overwhelming, and it's tempting to simply gather them all up in my arms and borrow the lot so no-one gets hurt. But deep down I'll know that none of them are quite right. So, instead of pretending that something might work for the sake of protecting everyone's feelings, I'll politely reject them and explain that they're not for me just yet.

I'll then continue my search for the actual 'one', wary not to make eye contact with the now bitter and intense glares emanating from the aforementioned rejected books.

As you can imagine, this latter scenario can be quite an arduous and emotionally-draining process, and you may very well be wondering why on earth I put myself through all of this each time I visit the library. But rest assured this process is not always so difficult, and is generally one which is enjoyable and even therapeutic for me. I simply like to ensure that the book I chose to invest my time into is exactly right before committing to it entirely.

But sometimes, just sometimes, a book will simply be hanging out on a shelf, all casual and aloof, not bothered whether or not I'll select to read it or not. And I'll think 'Hey, you look pretty cool and I'd like to read you.' So I'll pick it up, assessing the cover and reading the blurb, while it remains all casual and aloof in my hands. And if it passes my initial tests of judgement I'll select it as my next read. I'll then skip merrily to the borrowing counter with my new treasure in tow, and an explosion of confetti will ensue in celebration. Hurrah!

And that will be the end of that adventure. Until the next time.