Smugness, anticipation, and procrastination

Nick Hornby writes a column for The Believer where he lists the books he buys and the books he reads every month. (If you are a book person, you’ll understand how this isn’t the exact same list.) I don’t actually read Hornby’s column: Lisa tells me about it, and reads me the really good bits. It’s her subscription. I’m not sure what my problem with The Believer is. It would seem I am the perfect reader for it (it’s literary, amusing, has zero advertising, and includes occasionally odd illustrations) — and maybe that is why. It’s like The Believer knows it would be perfect for me, and that makes it a little too smug for my taste.

Still, I like the Hornby idea. In theory. I’d be afraid to commit to it myself, because I might have to own up to the fact that my book buying habits far outstrip my reading habits. I haven’t spent quality time with Raising Frogs for $ $ $, Scorpio, and The Day-to-Day Life of Albert Hastings yet, and they came into the house in the last month. I haven’t read Everything That Rises: A Book of Convergences or The Black Swan or played with Guerilla Art either, though I want to. And I’m sure I will, soon. Maybe even before I get to The Zombie Survival Guide, because it seems I missed the obvious holiday to be reading it. On the other hand, it might make for fun vacation reading in Disneyworld.

I managed to zip through The Traveler, though. I started Walking On Water: Reading, Writing And Revolution today, and that had been on the unread shelf for months. I’m six book reviews behind on my other blog… so of course I’ve been procrastinating (in terms of finishing this post) by adding a few more things to my Amazon wish list. The whole list isn’t books — I’m well-rounded. I put some polaroid film on there, too.

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