So, as a partial Spring Break goals revisitation, I would like to proudly say that I've read 5 books. I am actually feeling pretty proud of myself.
Now for the confession: I'm a paperbackaholic.
I don't have a bookshelf (though, if you'd like to gift me one, I'm sure I can find somewhere to put it), but if I did have one, I could easily fill most of it with paperbacks, um, happy, love story paperbacks, most of them by one of my favorite authors- Nora Roberts (I am happy to say that I have branched out and have multiple books by other authors, she is just my favorite).
As I thought last weekend about what books to read to accomplish my 2 book goal, I remembered I had gift cards to Barnes & Noble. I grabbed "Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man" and a paperback, okay, it was a hardback unfortunately, but it was a steal. I quickly read through both of them (thank you Steve Harvey for the relationship insights, pretty interesting really) and quickly went to my book storage for more books to satisfy my reading appetite. I have now finished three additional books, all in the happy, love story paperback genre, all of which I have read at least 2-3 times before.
It's not like this is the only genre I own. I actually have a pretty fair amount of spiritually uplifting books (yes, I've read them) and some thrillers, the entire Harry Potter series, etc. but when I crack open the bin (I told you I don't have a bookshelf) my fingers go directly to the cracked spines of my worn and well-read paperbacks.
I suppose I'm living vicariously -to a point- through my literary collection.
It's a disease, an addiction. The first step for addiction is admitting it, right? I mean, that's what I hear, not that I've ever been addicted to anything before. Ever.