What happens when I go to the library alone

As if you can’t tell from my goodreads widget over there (if you’re actually viewing this at my blog, anyway), I tend to read a fairly wide variety of things at once. Which of course, I take great pride in. Or else why would I do it? If I can make the cashier at the bookstore comment on the range of genres in my stack, I consider it a personal victory.

Of course, these quit-my-day-job-to-live-my-dreams days, I don’t have throw money in the air at the bookstore kind of cash anymore. Which means my weird stacks are now assembled at the library. After years of guilting and pressuring myself about how many books I should have out at once, I have finally given myself permission to check out ALL! THE! BOOKS!, and if some of them go back to the library unread, it’s going to be okay. This stack is definitely a result of this experiment, I have at least eight library books at home already, and actually every book I am reading at the moment is a book I own, not a library book at all. (shocking)

I really love this stack. A biography of Charles Darwin in poems? Check. A Kenyan crime novel, even though I hardly ever read crime/mystery, but it’s from my favorite publisher? Check. A collection of afrofuturist short stories from my latest small press obsession? Check. A feminist meditation, blurbed by bell hooks, from a university press? Check. A graphic novel of Miles Morales as Spider-Man? Check.

The other two I checked out for my kids. But I may read The Guardians of the Galaxy.

What about you? Do you use the library? Do you feel like you have to control the number of books you check out at once? If so, what’s your system? If not, how did you give yourself the permission to lead such an extravagant book life?

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