Bookworm Adventures: Battle With the Dusty Bookshelf

I am currently fighting my way through two family dramas - Mark Haddon's A Spot of Bother and Wally Lamb's I Know This Much is True (the aggression is necessary to scare away depression). But both I just read in between my devouring books that I really like - Lualhati Bautista's Bata, Bata... Pa'no Ka Ginawa?, Richard Bach's Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and a reread of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird a few days back. I still have The Origin of Species from my recent National Bookstore loot, but something as special as Charles Darwin's writing shouldn't be read just because I couldn't put my hands on anything else anymore (i.e., it needs the force of pure, unadulterated scientific interest, and as of today my reading mood is along the lines of the humanities).

Unfortunately, what remains in my humble bank account is a microscopic vestige and I still owe Emman three hundred pesos for the Parokya ni Edgar concert tickets he bought me last week, and the National Bookstore panic buying I had two weeks ago. I want to go back to Bookay-Ukay, I'm itching to get my Lord of the Rings trilogy deal with Jonver, and I already missed the 32nd Manila International Book Fair. And imagine my pain when Emman and I had that Johnny English movie date - we went to Booksale while waiting for the 4:10 screening, and I saw a stack of paperback classics from Jane Austen to Ernest Hemingway, but I just stared because it's heart breaking to choose just a couple, and leave the rest.

I tried blog hopping to distract me from my need to smell slightly yellowed book pages, but in my head, hard bounds are constantly dancing, urging me to touch one. It was not a simple hunger for reading, it was a complicated, nagging lust for books. I surrendered and voluntarily inhaled book shelf dust mites just so I could get my hands on another batch of reading material.

And my effort's weren't in vain. I was surprised to see that I actually have Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None (if I remember correctly, they were gifts along with Mary Higgins Clark's Loves Music, Loves to Dance five, maybe six years ago). Here's the stack that I got:

plus Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone and Louisa May Alcott's Little Women

These will block my jitters away for a while (I'm waiting for UP Diliman's confirmation of my exam schedule for my graduate school application).

Happy rainy day reading!