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Rachael Berkey

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Addiction

Posted: 07/05/2012 6:41 pm

There's this thing about a good book. I never really want them to end. I get lost in the story, want to explore the world further, want to hang out with the characters on a one-to-one basis. I want to be their friend.

Clearly, I'm a little crazy, right?

It happened just last week. I finished The Night Circus and ran right over to the author's website to find out what else she had written. When I saw the words "debut novel" on her site, I audibly moaned.

Why? Why Writer Gods?? Why isn't there another book for me to sink into immediately? I'm kind of all about the instant gratification sometimes. I am late leaving the house because I got sucked into my book. I choose reading over social activities because I got sucked into my book. And then the wonderful times I've stayed up all night just to finish something like Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

I know I'm not alone. I know there are a lot of people out there, men and women, who would sometimes rather keep their nose in a book than face the real world. I like to pretend it's not my fault, but really it's about self-control.

Like an addict, I need an intervention sometimes. Now that I'm not 10, I don't have a parent who will stumble in at 3:00 a.m., snatch my book from my hands and turn out the light over my protests. And I'm single so there's no significant other to do the same.

I nearly needed an intervention after The Night Circus. I nearly needed someone to come and take the book away from me so that I wouldn't just start it over again at the beginning like I wanted to.

Luckily, with the writing I do here and other places on the web, frequently about books, there is rarely a dull moment when I don't have something else I should be doing, reading or writing. I was saved from a hard relapse into curling up in bed with my book, a glass of wine and an instant marathon rereading session by the other two novels I have sworn I will get read before I go out of town next week.

I did good. I kept control of myself. I got half way through one of them.

But that book -- the book that is tempting me to turn my face from the world and disappear into a world of magic, art formed from the pages of books, and luscious colors like I haven't read in months -- is still tempting me. It sits on my iPad, taunting me with its rich descriptions, imagination-defying scenery and beauty.

Thank God books aren't a chemical addiction. I'll never get to the point where I just can't have anymore, right?

 

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