As I am sitting here writing this, I am surrounded by books. Literally. I have just taken all my bookcases out to make way for my new ones and my poor books are surrounding my bed in piles.
Piling all my books has made it clear just how many I own, how many I haven’t actually read and how many more I want to buy. Each time my brother walks past my room, he tells me I have a “problem,” that I have “too many” books, that I don’t need to buy more. This is a pretty common occurrence but today it got me thinking:
Nope. I don’t think there’s any shame in collecting books. I love collecting books. I love going to Dymocks and browsing the YA section, inevitably picking out one or two to take home. I love that I have an endless supply of reading material and that I will never have nothing to read.
Being surrounded by books makes me happy. What better feeling is there for a bookworm than being in a room filled with books? I love that my small bedroom is filled with many different worlds that I can visit whenever I want.
Books are pretty. I mean, most books are. Not all books are super attractive and that’s okay. But sometimes even the less pretty books are still pretty because books.
When I buy books I am supporting the author. And who doesn’t want to support someone who puts so much into making something amazing?
If I didn’t buy books, I wouldn’t be doing my part in keeping the printed word alive. If no one bought books, if book collecting wasn’t a thing, would that make physical books obsolete? And I don’t know about you, but I freakin love physical books.
I really really really like to hold a book in my hands. And with a room full of my collected books, I can do that whenever I want! I can stroke that hardback or fiddle with that floppy paperback anytime I want in the privacy of my home.
So no, I don’t think there’a any shame in collecting books, in keeping the things that make me happy. But I want to know…
Do you think there’s any shame in collecting books?