OK, not strictly true. I am no longer freaking out right now, but I was! I had the bookish-freaks over the weekend, over my first Readathon weekend no less. Yes – sweaty palms, hot flush, severe state of panic and all because………I couldn’t find anything I wanted to read! “Arrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!!” Now, I understand that to a mere mortal this little episode may seem somewhat banal or maybe even curious (something to be poked and prodded under a microscope perhaps – “is this girl for real?”) but to a bookaholic it truly feels like the world is ending. How can I not want to read anything? Fortunately, it lasted no longer than 24 hours. Unfortunately, it occured on the weekend of the 24-hour Readathon.
It did get me to thinking though. Thinking about all the bookish freak-out’s that I am periodically cursed with:
Exhibit #1
The “I don’t feel like reading anything!” syndrome
Have you ever been surrounded by a mountain of books and still can’t find anything you want to read. You pick one up, a book that only yesterday you would have orbited the moon to read such was your excitment and anticipation for this beauty, only to discard it back onto the shelf whence it came with and sigh and a heavy heart. What starts as lethargy quickly descends into blind panic as you survey the growing mound of discarded books around you. “What’s wrong with me?!!”. I have even been known to read several pages of at least 10 books in a row and then have to deal with the guilt of them all looking woefully in my direction in their freshly assembled heap of cousins as I frantically flip the pages of another, willing it to be the one!
Exhibit # 2
The review-copy mountain
Ahh, the thing that is guaranteed to give any book blogger the shakes! Review books! Now don’t get me wrong – I LOVE review books. I LOVE being contacted by authors and publishers asking if I, me, Boof, would like to read their book. Who me? Really? I’ve only been blogging since December and I still love the thrill of getting that email with descriptions of some as-yet undiscovered gem that hasn’t even hit the shelves. And then when they arrive on my doormat, all wrapped in brown (courtesy of my NBF of course) staring up at me like a child to its mother in that instant bond of adoration, it is like all my birthdays have come at once. I rip open the package and coo, stroke, sniff, and smile lovingly at my new beauty. All is well with the world. Then I go upstairs. And I spot them. All of them. All staring at me forelornely and whispering “I thought you loved me?”. Yep, it’s all my other review copies. Each one anxiously waiting their turn. And I panic! I freak out! How am I going to read all these? What about my own stuff that I really want to read too? Will I let the publisher down if I don’t read it now? What if I don’t like the book? What if I can’t finish it? How will I get the time to read them all, alongside my day job, eating and sleeping? Should I forego a few nights of sleep or maybe skip a few meals? No, I can’t do that – so when then? You see, I’m FREAKING OUT!
Exhibit # 3
The “I’ve got 5,000 books on my shelf but the only book I want to read is the one that another blogger just reviewed and raved about, and I want to read it NOW!”
Ah, another familiar story. I perhaps don’t actually have 5,000 books on my shelf (maybe only 4,000 
) but despite this, why is it always the one that I haven’t got the one I that I absolutely HAVE to have right now! Yes, this happens a lot. It’s the only book that will do. In a feverish frenzy I scour the pages of Amazon and Goodreads looking at reviews of said book, reinforcing to myself that I am right and this is the book I absolutely have to have now. “Everyone says it’s great, they love it, I can’t miss out, I can’t not have it, what if a giant asteroid hits the earth this weekend and then I’ll never know what happened, what if this is destined to be my favourite book and I never got round to reading it, I must have it, I must, I must, just click the proceed to checkout button, go on you know you want to, you’ll feel so much better, ramble, ramble, inchoherant blathering…..”
Exhibit # 4
The five book pile that refuses to narrow down
So I’ve come to the end of my book and I decide to peruse my shelves and remind myself of the delights that await me. I feel like reading some Victorian literature so off comes 3 hefty Dickens tomes. Or maybe a historical fiction book, it’s been a while since I read about anyone at the guillotine. Off come a couple of Jean Plaidy’s and a Phillippa Gregory. Oh, how about a good mystery? I love a good mystery! Down come a few Mary Higgins Clark and some Val Mcdermid for something a little grittier and ooh, don’t forget that new Jo Nesbo as afterall I loved his last book. Oh, wait, it’s been ages since I read anything set in China and that’s one of my favourite genres. I’ll just grab that new Peter Hessler and maybe an autobiography from the cultural revolution era. Or maybe a chicklit – when was the last time I snuggled up with a single woman and her cat renovating a house and falling in love with her nextdoor neighbour? Ages ago, that’s when. Off come the Katie Ffordes and an Isobel Woolfe. Ahhh, that ought to do it. Only 14 books to narrow down.
OK, so maybe not the Dickens, that would take me weeks and there are just too many books. That leaves eleven. Maybe not the cultural revolution memoir either, I need something a little more uplifting. Ten. I’ll put some of the Katie Fforde’s, Mary Higgins Clark and Jean Plaidy’s back too, I only need one by each. Six. OK, the Jo Nesbo too – I just read one of his, so time for a change. Five.
Five.
Five.
Five!!!
Why can’t I narrow it down? I want to read them all now!
Three hours later:
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