You’ve heard it said a hundred times, and you’ve probably said it yourself too: so many books, so little time. I’m too scared to count the unread books on my shelves, but I estimate that, between the hardbacks I’ve bought at author events, the many bargains I’ve bagged at Strand Books, and all the e-books I’ve accumulated on both my Kindle and my Kobo, I probably have enough reading material for the next five years. Maybe more. Maybe quite a lot more.
And that’s not including the books I have in storage back in Europe.
So, the thing is: I really don’t need to buy any more books. But I will. I know I will. It’s a sickness. A beautiful, inspiring, life-giving sickness.
And I’m all the more likely to keep buying if any of these apply.