I’ve been thinking about this lately – the fact that I’m a re-reader, I mean.
It used to make sense, back before I began blogging about what I read, and discovering other bloggers doing the same thing. Back then, I actually went through periods during which I ran out of books in my TBR.
Yes. It’s true. I’m not making this up. I used to go through dry spells where there were very few books in my TBR, and then there would be whole days when I had nothing to read, and not even a browse through my library’s shelf would net me anything of interest.
Nowadays, though, I can’t go online without adding yet another new title to my i-want list. My TBR has grown into several minor mountains (I’m thinking of naming them according to the location of each pile – oh, I think that book is in Mt. Outside-the-Upstairs-Bathroom. And this title? Yes, here it is, in the middle of Mt. Beside-the-Office-Bookshelves.)
So why is it, I have to ask myself, I find I sometimes can’t resist the urge to re-read a book?
I’m not even talking about things like signing up for the Harry Potter reading challenge; after all, I have a good excuse. I haven’t listened to the books in audio, and anyway, I’ve been yearning to read the series from beginning to end ever since I put down book seven, floating in a blissed-out state but awfully sorry the series had ended.
I’m talking about being immersed in two or three really good current reads, and suddenly thinking, you know, I’d really like to re-read L.M. Montgomery’s The Blue Castle (and then I promptly did so). Or P.D. James’ The Murder Room, which is sitting on my desk right now because yesterday I was getting together a bunch of books to add to the Giftaway Shelf, saw The Murder Room, thought I would add it to the pile and then, for some reason totally unknown to me, decided to re-read the first page. Which is why it’s sitting next to me right now on my desk, and not in the stack of books destined to be added to the Giftaway Shelf.
Every time I do this – decide to re-read a book – I swear, all the books in my TBR piles give a collective groan, whip out their Daytimers and rub out the date they each figured they’d finally get read by me.
And despite this, I still do it.
What about you? Do you find yourself re-reading books even though the state of your TBR threatens to overwhelm you? Or are you really good about books you’ve already read, able to give them away or put them away and never think about them again?