Bookshelf shame

Howdy, friends.

I have been slow to adopt digital reading, even though Philip bought me a Nook last year. I love it, but I also just love walking to the library.

My goal this year, though, is to read the random pile of books I have at home, and then try to read exclusively on the Nook — mostly because books disappear off it after 2 weeks, and then I can hopefully avoid racking up huge late fees.

So, that means I am reading a lot of random things. Right now I’m reading “Not My Daughter,” by Barbara Delinsky (review here).

I have never read anything by her, and she seems like a crappy cross between Jodi Picoult and Danielle Steel. A quick, easy, entertaining read. But not something you want to whip out at a coffee shop and show people.

Which is stupid. Why do I have book shame? It’s like I want to tell people, “I just read the Steve Jobs book AND the Stieg Larsson trilogy! I am an English major! I don’t read drivel!” At the same time, there’s nothing wrong with escapism. Or with a quick read. Or any of it.

I wouldn’t judge someone else. OK, maybe a little, for some books. That isn’t right, but I’m being honest.  But it’s silly. First of all, nobody cares what I’m reading. Second of all, my other addiction is “Gossip Girl” on Netflix, so clearly I’m as low-brow as it gets. Why pretend otherwise?

Maybe the real confession is I stood in my kitchen to read more of this insipid book while the coffee brewed, because I needed 10 more minutes of it. (Yes, my coffee pot is really slow.) Or maybe the confession is I brought it to work in case I take a non-exercise lunch break, but I hid it in the bottom of my bag so none of my brainy coworkers would see it.

Maybe my public posting of this will shame me about my book shame.

Next up is “Cutting for Stone,” the choice for our March book club.

I’m sure I’ll be starting this tomorrow. Because my goal tonight is to finish this Delinsky book. And perhaps reserve some of her others, which a friend tells me are equally easy reads. She said she rolled her eyes when her mom gave her one, but then she finished it in two days. I like a sense of accomplishment.

Happy running.