So Many Books . . .

My reading habits have reached a breaking point, and I've had a revelation.

It started like this . . . 

While composing an e-mail today, I found myself debating which font to use. "Calibri" was the default, but I wanted something that looked like I put some effort into my e-mail and didn't just go with the default. I tried "Consolas," but it was too clinical, cold, outdated, and impersonal. I switched to "Sylfaen." I love it's name, and it has a magical, Times New Romanesque look that doesn't look too "default." However, its serifs make it a bit too busy for an e-mail that I'm hoping won't look too long and time-consuming. I considered Helvetica (which reminded me of the "Helvetica" documentary on Netflix; if you haven't seen it, watch it now!) before settling on "Candara." 

Considering these fonts made me see them as what they were - artwork. Artwork with style and meaning and a heckuva lot of consideration that went into their design. Each font has a specific feel to it; choosing the right one is often not an easy task. While thinking of these things and writing my e-mail, I thought, "There's that one really good book about fonts - "Just My Type" - that I've wanted to get." Then I realized -

I OWN that book.

IT IS IN MY POSSESSION.

RIGHT.

NOW.

It was like forgetting and then realizing I owned a trunk of gold ingots. HOW DO YOU FORGET ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT?

This brings me to my point: I've needed to finish reading the books I own, but now, for the first time in a long time, I want to read the books I have more than I want to buy more books.

I haven't finished my book inventory yet, but I'm pretty sure I have more unread books compared to read books in my shelves right now. While I know I should read them, the siren's call of new books and my unfortunate book-hopping reading habits have made it near impossible to finish all the unread books. However, forgetting that I owned "Just My Type" is a wake-up call. When you FORGET that you own a certain book - a book that you had looked forward to owning for the longest time and were exceptionally excited to find at the bookstore - you know you've reached a breaking point.

For so long, I've bought about 2 books for every one I finished. I figured it would all work out in the end because I was going to eventually read them all, but now I realize that I can't just be stock-piling books for later.

Now is Later.

On my shelves are all these books that I've been holding off on - like saving the coconut-chocolate-piece in a Russel's chocolate box for last. I see Maphead, Reading in the Brain, Darwin's Proof, What the Dog Saw, Who's Afraid of Opera?, The Rise of Thedore Roosevelt, etc., and, for the first time in quite a while, their appeal far outweighs the appeal of the books I want to buy. Suddenly, they aren't the tired titles that have been on my shelves for years, they're the friends I've neglected for too long. I don't want any more books. I'm excited to enjoy these long-neglected morsels here.