My addiction

It’s an expensive addiction. It’s just like when I smoked cigarettes. Always had to have a new pack somewhere in my bag, just in case I ran out and couldn’t find my brand.

I always needed to have at least a few new books in advance. I had to go out to Chapters or Renaud-Bray and buy books. Walking around the New Titles section, looking for known authors or new ones, checking out cover art and catchy titles. Then going to my favourite sections: mysteries mostly, some fiction, sometimes fantasy. Tim Dorsey, Janet Evanovich, Carl Hiaasen, Christopher Moore, Charlaine Harris. I would start with bargain books from cool authors, get hooked, catch up on paperbacks and then spend close to $40 on new releases as they came out. I was the kid who read the entire Agatha Christie section of the school library in a few months.

With the invention of the Kindle, my addiction became totally out of control. Kindle editions are always less expensive. Some books are FREE!!! Okay, not all of them are well-written or even reasonably edited. But this is where I discovered great authors like Paula Coots, Ainslie Paton, Cassia Leo, Kade Boehme to name a few.

The drawback for an addict like me? Right on my computer, just a click away. The temptation is overwhelming. No more dressing up, shlogging over to the stores, picking out books and having to make a choice at the end when my arm isn’t long enough to hold them anymore and counting the total before going to the cash.

Now? “Oh this looks interesting”: click. It’s bought. I can read it within the next seconds. Go to Romance, or Gay & Lesbian, or Fiction, sort by price low to high, and click on any book that looks remotely interesting; it’s free, right. Pages and pages of free books. Then? A dollar. A dollar a book. Well, so cheap you can probably buy a few without a single dent in your bank account, right? Click click click click. Twenty books bought. Total transaction: $4. Next week: fifteen books bought. Total transaction: $0.

Like with the cigarettes: only two or three unread books in my device: must go shopping. here I come. Only I have to behave myself. Can’t buy twenty books at $20 a pop.

Do I read them all? Yes.

Do I like them all? No.

Would I rather do something else with my time? No.

Is my house is a complete disaster zone? Yes.



Why do I keep reading a book which makes me feel bad for most of it, just to find out at the end that it’s going to be continued in another book next year.

New resolution: when a book makes me feel bad, I’m dropping it. Too bad about feeling guilty about the writer and respecting someone’s work and giving it a chance and blablabla. I am now depressed and I have myself to thank for it.

The book is called Incomplete, and that’s how I feel.

Here goes….

OK. I started three books, two in English and one in French. Will I ever finish them? I hope so. At least one.

I have ADHD. Diagnosed a couple of months ago. Still trying to get the meds right. Not easy.

My dream? To publish a book. Once. In my life. I even promised my kids, thinking it would guilt me into doing it, if for no other reason.

Wish me luck.