I’ve known it for some time.

The need to enter a bookstore and at least be amongst the books, even if I wasn’t actually purchasing one. The need to have a book with me at all times. The fear of being without a new book to read. My large to-be-read pile is a testament of it. My habit of lingering in the book section of every store is another indication.

What is it? My addition to books. I love them…and I can’t live without them.

I have always been a reader. I grew up among books and was known to spend my allowance money on only two things: books and things for my cat. However, I don’t think I truly became addicted to books until after college. I read regularly before that time, but the pressures of being a patent examiner forced me to find some way to destress. Books became my escape and my addiction began. It started slowly…taking trips to the bookstore and coming home with a book or two, constantly having my nose in a book when away from the torture at the office, keeping up with book reviews. Many years later, I have been known to come out of bookstores after having purchased 7 books at a time. I don’t do this often, and yet, my to-be-read pile is, well, large. I’ve run out of book shelf space (which is a big reason why I purchased a Nook - which I love).  So, why do I write this?  In hopes of getting help?  In hopes of entering a 12-step program?  Not really.  I find it is an addiction I don’t want to fix.

I am what I am…a book-a-holic.