An old addiction

I have several addictions that drive my day to day living. Some are relatively new, such as WoW. The internet, another addiction, really only morphed into it's current state of daily need sometime around the time I turned 15 or 16.

One, however, has been around since the age of near 3.

Books. Reading. Oh, yes.

Be it reference book, work of fiction, biography, horror, children's, compilation or stand alone work. From the time that my mother first sat me down and started teaching me how to read in Spanish, I have been ensnared. Possibly even before then. There are tales of me as a very young child throwing tantrums because my brothers withheld a book with the taunt "You can't even read yet!" What did I want with them? Who knows, but it drove me to learn, apparently.

I do have my preferences, but most are somewhat mutable. It's more like one day I might crave one type more than another, much like having a craving for good spaghetti one day and fantastic hummus the next.

I am grateful to the many enablers that I am friends with when it comes to this particular addiction. Many, in fact, who hale from the same clan. Some have introduced me to authors such as Paulo Coelho, who's body of work I have been slowly accumulating and appreciating. Going to their homes offer countless opportunities to pick up a book from a neat stack to begin while curled up under a quilt, often accompanied by a good cup of coffee. Or perhaps an already great visit is made even nicer by being handed a work of vampire fiction that occupies an evening with delightfully disturbing imagery.

Addiction is nothing to be made lightly of, perhaps. But this is one that I wouldn't mind plaguing my loved ones. After all, there are so many books I'd like to share....