To say that I have an active social conscience would be a striking understatement. Sometimes I’m a little bit manic about my role in the world, as a matter of fact. While it might stem from some deep seeded perfectionism or arrogance, I think it matters, in a very tangible way, how I impact the planet.

I recently traded my favorite toy in the world in an effort to solidify my role as an environmentally conscious and responsible human being. My metallic silver, sports-package-equipped, sunroofed, leather-seated Honda Accord went for trade in favor of a 2008 Toyota Prius. Given, I (unavoidably) drive 70 round-trip miles per day to work so gas prices might’ve been another motivator, but I like to think I’m a loyal friend to the planet first and foremost.

My house is equipped with those cool twisty light bulbs that last for ten years, I recycle religiously, and I rarely turn on the lights during daylight hours. I carry reusable shopping bags on grocery runs, I take short showers, and I teach hybrid/online courses so minimal paper changes hands.

Are you convinced yet? Are you?

Did I forget to mention my huge book collection? The nearly 400 books that I own and haven’t read, and the 150 “favorites” that I choose to keep? Is tree-hugging book lover an oxymoron?

It’s true, I shudder to think how many tree corpses live in my office as I type this week’s installment of “The Finicky Reader.” As an American faced with daily environmental guilt, I finally had to come to grips with my habit. I was organizing my book collection a few weeks ago, when I realized my favorite pastime in the whole wide world—the bulk of my livelihood—is environmentally unsavory. Like most other pastimes it’s just not good for the planet. Given, I’d feel worse if my books were the environmental equivalent of plastic shopping bags, nonetheless, I have to take responsibility enough to realize that I’m no tree hugging hero for buying scads of books.

In my defense, I tend to “recycle” my books—I often buy used or “mooch” books from trading sites like BookMooch. I’m beginning to use the library more or even listen to a book in favor of buying a copy. After all, I can pass on my MP3s to friends and colleagues. Then they won’t buy the books either!

Alas, the old urge to divide and conquer is still there. Like a recovering addict of any kind, my first instinct when faced with shelves of alluring tomes is to throw a few in a basket and make them mine, mine, all mine. However, I have to decide whether it’s really worth the energy and pollution used to hack down the tree, make the paper, bind the book, and churn out the pigment. And don’t even get me started on the packaging and shipping to retailers. It’s all a very frustrating and vicious cycle.

Thankfully, there are additional things I can do, as an avid book lover, to assuage my environmental guilt and be a “green” reader. As much as I hate to admit it--given Amazon.com’s recent “print on demand” hoo-ha—the Amazon Kindle is a green reader’s best friend. With 110,000 paperless titles available for download, it’s a tempting fix for a lasting addiction. It might take my tax return and a prayer, but I’m about a millimeter away from taking the bait.

I suppose, at the end of the day, the best way to become a more environmentally friendly reader, aside from dropping mountains of cash for a fancy hand-held reader, might be the little things. Small gestures that add up in the end. Hopefully, I can keep my books out of landfills by trading them to other readers, selling them to used book stores, or even donating them to my local city or college library. In addition to environmental consciousness I find it increasingly important to be conscious of the way I choose reading material. In the past I might purchase any old book that sounded interesting on a whim, and it might languish unread in my stacks (like all those others) for years afterwards. By biting the proverbial bullet and becoming a frequent flyer at the library, readers like me can help save the planet and go easy on the old pocketbook. It’s a win-win situation.

I wish I had all the answers for what has become one of my most pressing moral dilemmas. I cannot give up my books. But what to do in the face of environmental distress? I can’t turn a blind eye toward Mother Earth either. I’m looking for balance, peace, and a general sense of well-being and goodness in my life. Apparently, responsibility is a critical component of finicky reading.


Andi is a recovering university academic employed by the North Carolina community college system as an English instructor. While she decided to forego a Ph.D. and career as a professor, she fills in all the free time her current position affords her with editing literary publications, reviewing, freelancing, and blogging. Her work can be found in the journal, Multi-Ethnic Literature of the United States (MELUS), and Altar Magazine as well as online in various venues such as PopMatters.com. She is a member of the National Book Critics Circle (NBCC), and writes fiction. Her turn-ons include new books and gelato, while her turn-offs are reality television and washing dishes. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it