Today I told my colleagues at the office I was reading Paulo Coehlo’s ‘The Alchemist’, and then everyone rolled their eyes with that ‘oh honey, please… we’ve read that ages ago’ that I’m usually not affected by, but I felt the need to stress that I had read it before, too, and that ‘yes, I did read ’11 minutes’ and * every other of his books except for the new one that just came out and of which I don’t remember the title right now, because I actually do own the complete Coelho collection. *** Oh my God, did everyone catch their breath? I marked the point where you were supposed to grasp for air with a “*”. You’re welcome.
But anyway. Books. At an average pace of a book per week, I have read many books, but there’s no way on earth that I’ll ever be able to read them all, because I actually do re-read books. And with ‘re-read’, I mean more than twice. I have books that I read 5 to ten times. Yes… the same books. And of course, given my lack of inspiration tonight and also because I need to continue reading the Alchemist for the 3rd time, here’s a list of books I read more than twice:
Eat, Pray, Love – Elizabeth Gilbert: lost count.
Let’s pretend this never happened – Jennifer ‘The Bloggess’ Lawson: 3 times.
I know this much is true – Wally Lamb: at least 6 times
The complete Shopaholic collection – Sophia Kinsella: lost count
Let’s immediately agree that I suck at making lists and giving reviews, but that the above also shows how various and eclectic my taste is. If I’m not mistaken, that’s a sign of high intelligence. Or it proves that I am in fact dysfunctional and crazy, and therapy is necessary.
Whatever gets me to read a book, really.