Fictional world is addictive. You immerse yourself in a book and forget about the real world, at times about self and surroundings, and start to live in the world writer has created for you. Once you step into it, world that is not your own yet feels so much like one, you don’t want to get out of it. At least not until you’re dragged out by the devil called responsibility. This outer body experience is quite common if you’re a bookworm or have ever read a book you couldn’t put down.
But being a bookworm comes with its own set of problems.
Torn between screaming from a rooftop about a book that you loved and wanting to keep it all to yourself:
There were times when I have loved a book so much, it raced by heart, pranced my steps, made me dizzy and kept me up at night. When I was done reading it all I wanted to do was talk and keep talking about it. But I also didn’t want anyone to know how amazing the book was, because there was a chance they might not like it and that experience was sacred to me. Eventually, I recommended it to those I felt would share the same feelings for it. Not always the attempt has been successful.
Getting hyped over or attached to people who don’t even exist:
We usually get attached to books we like, we start to feel for the characters because they are relatable. These emotions range from outright hatred, to love, to attachment, to liking, to sympathy.
Eating and reading at the same time:
This has to be the worst problem in the reading community. It’s difficult to hold food in one hand and a book in the other and manage not to accidentally stain a page. It’s the time when a bookworm wishes he had three arms.
Reading in a moving vehicle:
The plight of reading when traveling is just too much—in my case, in a train or metro. If you manage to hold the book in one hand, hold a handlebar on top of your head in the other, turn the page with your nose or pinky, hold the book still when people around you are shoving you in the ribs, keep track of the stations and plot line simultaneously and read more than a couple of pages in an hour, you’re a superhuman.
Also, traveling in a car to a destination that won’t arrive for another day is a lot of wasted reading time. But if I try to read, the words float before me, giving me a lasting migraine that is too much a price to pay.
Someone asks you what your favorite book is and your whole life flashes in front of you:
That question pops up many times. Most of the time, I either go blank or all the books I’ve cried or laughed over zoom past my mind like a speedy slideshow. I do end up picking one, but that usually changes every time because there is never just one.
Loving the side characters, but wishing the main lead would get eaten by a shark:
It happens when I enjoy a story and get excited whenever a side character walks on the page. But the main lead is so frustrating, I just want to accidentally push him/her off a cliff.
Your TBR pile is taller than you are:
All bookworms will agree to this. TBR stands for to-be-read and we have so many of those, we might as well build a book [swimming] pool. But isn’t every reader a hoarder? This brings us to…
Not being able to resist buying more books when you already have enough to swim in:
There is always a book you see in a sale or on discount that you need. Your room is pretty full, but not your heart. It has enough space for one more story.
Holding a thick book up while lying on a bed:
Especially when it ends up slipping from you fingers and smacking your face. Ouch.
Owning multiple copies of the same book:
I can never explain this. My friends have asked me why I need another copy when I already have one in a perfect condition. There can be a lot of reasons: the previous copy is growing old or has a terrible font size, or the new book is a hardback or has a better cover.
“But still, wasting money on something you already have? Why!” To be honest, they won’t understand. That is exactly why it’s a bookworm’s problem; problems the sane people are clueless about.
Do you relate to any of these bookish troubles?