Buying and Buying...But When Will I Read?

Let's try to answer these simple questions right away:

1. How many times have you entered a bookstore “just to browse” and left with at least 2-3 purchases? 2. How many times have you been told, “You buy so many books! When will you read them all?”?

Questions that anyone who buys many books knows all too well and has heard far too often. But they don't let it bother them much anymore. The real question to ask, however, is this: why do passionate readers often buy compulsively, even if they themselves don't know if and when they will read every single tome purchased?

Collecting, mania, or...something more subtle?

As every true lover of fiction knows all too well, the reader's real problem isn't how many books they buy or why. Rather, their main source of distress is the progressive reduction of space in which to store them. As a customer once told me, observing my regular "haul" of purchases, "*sooner or later the walls at home run out*". Nothing could be truer, unfortunately, and in that case, there's little to do, unless one has wonderful wall-to-wall bookshelves along the walls of the house and, as an obvious consequence, very, very long walls (and even then, sooner or later they have the nasty habit of running out). When entering a bookstore, the reader enters a kind of subspace, where rational decisions give way to other priorities, more emotional and subtle. Setting aside books by one's favorite authors, which are often bought regardless of other considerations, one might be attracted by a cover, by the introductory notes, by the plot, by curiosity, or simply by the desire to explore "*something new*" within one of their preferred genres. It's not about collecting, nor is it an obsessive-compulsive disorder. It's an exploratory, investigative drive; it's that cultural, literary, cognitive curiosity that leads the lover of printed paper to rummage through the shelves and make their choice from a thousand and one options.

Who chooses whom?

It's often said, “*it's not the reader who chooses the book, but the book that chooses the reader*”. In these cases, it's absolutely true, because everyone has, in one way or another, experienced the feeling of being “*guided*” towards a particular book, as if it wanted to be purchased by that very person. And often, these tomes then became among the best ever read (even if from time to time some crazy mistake is made: the risk of a “brick” is always around the corner; magnetic-literary attraction is not a perfect science, although this has never deterred any avid reader from making “*blind purchases*”).

But then why do we buy without knowing when we'll read?

In reality, the answer to this question is simpler than one might think. A book is not a newspaper that becomes old if not read on the same day. Just as every book, with its genre, mood, and atmosphere, might be more suitable to accompany us in certain moments of our lives rather than others. A good reader knows well that purchased books won't simply end up gathering dust, but will become part of their personal wealth. Not a treasure in economic terms (although sometimes in that sense too, which never hurts) but in emotional, profound terms, nourishing the soul and mind. Some associate a rich library with a well-stocked cellar of fine wines (if you want to know more, see the reference link). The volume will take its rightful place on the shelves in the buyer's home, who will decide, consciously or unconsciously, when it's time to open it. After days, months, or perhaps years. Knowing full well that, whatever the right moment will be, they will always find a small universe to discover, a plot to unravel, souls and people to encounter. It is the true multiverse in which we can all travel, entirely within our reach to decide when, where, and how. It would truly be a shame to deprive ourselves of it, don't you think?