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Choice Overload
by
Andi Miller
In this land of plenty we call America—the land of big advertising, gargantuan wealth, and gross excess—it is entirely possible to encounter too much choice. I feel it when I shop for groceries, shoes, makeup, and cookware. In recent years, I experience the awe and recoil associated with choice overload every time I gaze at my “to be read” (TBR) shelves. In my own house, among my own books, I’m reminded of the ridiculous number of possessions one can amass over time.
I’m sure there was a time when I had a less than intimidating TBR—a few
books here and there—a miniscule little stack of ten or twelve unread
tales. How it grew into the hundreds is beyond me. I really have no
idea when it happened. The only thing I know for sure is that on the
off chance I stopped buying, borrowing, or trading books this second,
it would still take me (based on past experience and reading averages)
approximately six to eight years to read all of the books I own.
As a college English teacher, this point in the school year is always
overwhelming. With five classes worth of research papers to grade,
final averages to tally, and records to get in order, I have little
time for reading. I’ve been diligently plugging away at my current read
for over a week. When I’m not nodding off in my reading chair that is.
In the ludicrously busy moments, there is nothing I’d rather do than
read what I want to read as opposed to what I’m bound to read by
responsibility.
One distinct side effect to a harrowing end-of-semester rush is the
fallout that usually occurs as a result. While I’m always excited to
get back to my pleasure reading, I find that the buildup of expectation
is a bit difficult to overcome. All of the books seem to scream at me
from the shelves. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay does a seductive little jig, A Great and Terrible Beauty whines at me in a never-ending teenage twang, and What is the What shakes a stern finger in my direction, ordering me to pick it up immediately.
Alas, I can’t read all the books at once. I would need more time,
better eyesight, and a knack for speed reading if I were to rush
through them as fast as they beckon to me. Apparently it’s my lot in
life to yearn constantly for books I have in my possession but can’t
always pick up when the mood strikes.
Things like this—the overindulgence of books, the collecting—can
inevitably lead to that oft dreaded phenomenon I referred to in an
earlier installment of “The Finicky Reader” called The Bookworm’s
Curse. The overzealous need to read counteracted by the impossibility
of consuming the TBR all at once is a harrowing catch-22.
In coming weeks I’ll have unlimited reading time, a small window of
opportunity between the end of the spring semester and the beginning of
what promises to be a busy summer session. How will I choose my reading
when there’s so much to rifle through? I might put names in a hat. I
might close my eyes and point at a random selection in the stack. Or,
as usually seems to happen, I might stand in front of my shelves, close
my eyes and wait. Silently wait. Until, at last, the right title might
peep out at me. Just a little screech or twitter from a bottom shelf or
from behind a stack of newly acquired tomes. I wait for the right book
to pop up and show itself. And then, I just know.
That, my friends, is how largely inexplicable, non-scientific reading magic happens in the face of a hulking TBR.
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
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