Cora Harrison

They divide books into delicious morsels ready to be devoured – and sometimes we decide to eat up the whole serving tray in one go resulting in a major hangover with the flavour of our huge disappointment that there’s nothing left. They help us remember where we left off – well, at least those people who have awesome memory. Everyone else lets the good old bookmarks do the remembering. They are wonderful excuses to procrastinate – “Just let me finish this.” – “Only one more.” – we’ve all been there. Sometimes, they make us tear out our hair because they leave off with a cliffhanger and we have to stop to do annoying real life stuff or have to read half the book to get back to this certain point of view – or even one and a half books, in case you’re reading A Song of Ice and Fire. They come in different sizes and even more shapes to look their very best.

Buying books is both my fervent passion and my worst vice. Sometimes, I even wonder whether it is not an addiction or an illness of some sorts, because I’m constantly buying – much more than I will probably ever be able to read. But, you know, they look so pretty on the shelves! …

Normally, I’m trying to buy in reasonable masses. However, if I find an excuse with which I can keep my conscience quiet, I forget all good resolutions. That’s what happened in April, because I thought that Easter would be a great excuse to buy tonnes of new books. Well, it’s my one and only treat after all.