Hello. My name is Mónica, and I am a bookaholic.
Although I think it’s in my blood (you should see my dad’s and mom’s collections), I also believe my addiction started in 1985, when I was introduced to Michael Ende (author of Momo, The Never Ending Story and Jim Botón y Lucas el Maquinista. Since then, I have been an avid reader and an avid book-buyer. I am a member of Barnes and Noble’s frequent buyer program, I have taken a one-month intensive course on book publishing and I am friends with at least one used-book seller.
I own more than 300 books that I know of, although there are several I have not cataloged in my roster. I sold many books when I moved from Austin to NY and, with the exception of a couple, it hurt to sell them.
When faced with buying clothes or a book, unless I seriously need the clothes, I will buy a book. When faced with lending I book, I squirm, and if I succumb, I take note of to whom, when and in what condition the book was loaned (I used to not care, but then I lost a first edition of Garcìa Màrquez’ El amor en los tiempos del còlera).
In my dreams, I am a millionaire that doesn’t need to work and can spend all her time reading and traveling to the places she reads about.
My favorite gift to give is a book (have you already suffered my "here’s a copy of the Alchemist/Of Love and Shadows" attack on any special occasion?)
I also share Booklust’s opinion, as well as One Good Thing’s idea that there are never enough books and that reading is sexy (if you would like to submit a photo for Return of the Reluctant’s naughty reading photo contest, please do and tell me about it).
What has prompted this confession, is that today, my addiction has reached an appalling new level, that although hurts my budget (and financial conscience), I will not regret. During an outing in downtown Mexico City, I bought an out-of-print copy of a book on Saints’ Iconographies. It occurred to me later that my dad probably has it and I may someday inherit his copy, but until then, when I need it, I would have to cry and see if I could find it in a library. I also know that my life’s career so far has been literature, but if you know me, you know I love colonial religious art, and for real appreciation and my not-so-secret ambition of being an expert on the topic, one needs to know the saint’s symbols and icons. So, today I bought my own copy Iconografìa de los Santos (so out of print that I couldn’t find a link with an image for this post). Including the "I know the owner of the store" discount, the price was roughly $85. Thank you very much, my dear American Express. And no, I will NEVER lend it to anyone.
So…. Now it’s your time to share. Are you a bookaholic? And if so, I have another question for you. What makes a good book good? And before you answer, "well, the answer is as varied as the readers in the world", let me tell you that that’s why I’m asking. Since (I think) everyone who reads this blog is either family or friend, I would like to know your take on what a "good" book is and therefore know a little more about you. I will post my own ideas about a "good book" later.
Yeah, I am a bookaholic, and I hope I never get over it. And now, if you excuse me, I have to go next door and browse at the Librerìa Ghandi before I go home for lunch.