There was this section in one of the local independent papers when we lived on the Rock where you could write in confessions or secrets and they would post them. Kind of like Post Secret, but in a paper. Patrick and I got a great kick out of them, because some people would write in the most ridiculous “I saw you…” things.
This week, I am joining up with the Broke and the Bookish for Top Ten Tuesday’s top ten bookish confessions. Not quite (at least, not always) as shocking as the ones in the paper and definitely not nearly as creepy, and obviously not anonymous.
- I have used reading to get out of things. Not important things. Just things. I also read that others have done this in Mindy Kailing’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?. That made me feel better. When I was a kid, I was a book worm. And every adult loves a good book wormy kid. I would read everywhere all of the time. Because I enjoyed it, but also because nobody would interrupt the reading kid to have a conversation or do small menial tasks. Now, as an adult, I have reading to do for school/work… It still gets me out of the odd unwanted social outing.
- I become abhorred when people deface books. Like when some of my classmates took Toronto Notes apart to put it into small binders. It made me crazy. Despite that, I used my last copy until it undewent a strange form of book mitosis and divided into three parts. Unfortunately, not symmetric coppies. I am more okay with wear and tear than the violence that is dismembering the book with intent.
- I can’t stand it when people dog ear pages. Patrick does it all the time. I will use anything, even a reciept or gum wrappert to avoid the dog ear.
- I carry a book with me everywhere… In a purse or on my phone… There has to be something. The problem is, as a result, the books sometimes become a bit mangled. I don’t mean to mangle them. It just happens in the depths of my bag.
- I am cheap and only buy full price books that I think I will reread or that I know I can lend to others. On the same spectrum, I buy bargain books with a joy that most shop-a-holics get from shoes. Actually, book shopping is the only thing I can do day after day and not want to impale myself.
- I can mark in books. But, only if it is color-coordinated and within a system I devised in my mind. Margin notes are only allowed in my Bible. Otherwise I need Post-Its to get the job done. If you mark in my book outside of the routine, I get very agitated. Just ask Patrick.
- I judge books by their covers. I know I shouldn’t but I do. Great books come with bad covers. Bad books with great covers. But, I am drawn to pretty things in the store. Thankfully, I have learned to read a synopsis before picking it up for keeps.
- I judge people by their books. I know I shouldn’t but I do. In my mind, there are certain book types that make me shudder. I have read some of them myself after judging others who read them (think Something Borrowed) and then I was surprised to like it. The whole notion makes me shudder. I am working on it. Books are different for different people. But, that is my secret (okay, sometimes not so secret reaction).
- I don’t like to book multitask. I like to be reading one novel at a time. I can read a couple textbooks or reference books and my Bible simultaneously (okay, not quite simultaneously, but around the same time frame), but only one novel. I like to have my focus on a story. I am currently reading Les Miserables on my phone amidst everything. I think I am on page 50… And have been stuck there for months… Because I hate multi-novel reading that much.
- I really, really hate to just put a book down. I need to finish it. I can count unfinished books since high school on one hand. One was War and Peace. I am still stuck in the Secret History of the War on Cancer… But, I read a bit here and there (I think of it as a textbook to save me from breaking my internal multitasking rules). I stopped reading David Copperfield for several months, but had to finish it in the end. That is about it.
I can think of more. Apparently, I have many book based dirty little secrets. Okay, not really secrets. And not dirty. But, I feel like a rebel because this is about all I am rebellious about by times.
What are some of your bookish secrets? Can you relate to any of mine?