The BOOK-BUYING COMPULSION
Is it more than a love of reading?
The other day, I was browsing X and ran across a referral from a fellow author.
So, I did what I always do… I checked out a sample chapter on Amazon to decide whether it was worth the buy.
I liked what I read, so I shopped around, checking out my favorite stores for book deals. I found a price I was comfortable with and added the book to my shopping cart… But, wait! There’s a promo, and I only have to purchase one more book to get it.
The deal monger in me was intrigued. Surely, I could find one more book from the seller offering the discount.
I routinely save books of interest in my shopping cart, so running through the list was a quick excursion. When it was all said and done, I had not one — or even two — books to add to my collection. I had five.
Know why?
Because my price-shopping habits led me to another seller with an even better discount.
Ultimately, I spent money on books I determined were a good fit for my growing library, even if I didn't necessarily need them.
Those pesky marketing tactics
Yep, the discount offering on purchases is Marketing 101 at its finest.
Just like the extra items strategically placed at the grocery store checkout, the goal is to push consumers to spend more than intended.
But this isn't a post about money.
In fact, given my past experience with debt, I would have walked away no matter the deal had my only option been to float the purchase on a credit card.
This is a post about my need to keep inviting new things into my space. I have three bookshelves in my office, and they are overfilled with my collection of fiction, reference, and writing books.
Granted, I’ve already read most of them — when I’m on a mission, I go full-boar if you haven't already figured that out — but the reality is, I really can't afford to add much more to the pile.
Yet, I crave these books.
But why?
The truth and nothing but the truth
I asked myself this very question as I unpacked the latest set of books I'd ordered.
The noble answer is a love of reading. Of gathering information from instructional books or losing myself in the fiction worlds of my favorite authors.
But this isn't the truth, and I know it.
I buy many of these books because I’m searching. Not for inspiration, as much as I may try to tell myself that's the reason, but for the missing component in my writing…
You know. That one thing that will change it all.
The magic potion that ties my creative success into a nice, neat bow without those messy, unraveled ends. You know, the many roadblocks that trip creators up, like writer's block or rejection.
And, while I’ve learned a lot on writing, investing, and productivity, nothing overrides the fact I frequently use my book purchasing habit to procrastinate.
For me, the act of avoidance is more addictive than sugar. Not only does it mimic a sense of accomplishment where there really is none, it keeps my anxiety at bay.
Surely you can relate to the common drives within the creative brain…
An incessant push to deliver. The constant need to make something worthwhile in this topsy-turvy world. The drive to find purpose and value in your work.
Living with these urges is an all-consuming battle most days.
Sleep doesn't cure it. Neither does sex or food or any other indulgence. Not really.
Exercise does help a little, but eventually the questions still resurface.
What will I work on today?
How can I earn a living from my creative side?
Will I ever find the fulfilment I crave?
Am I just wasting my time?
Sure, books on changing one’s perspective and motivational tips on becoming more fruitful in your efforts have their place. While drafting my first novel, I spent a lot of time reading about the craft of fiction writing and absorbing the tips from those creators far more successful than me. And once the draft was done, the same could be said for self-publishing guidance and marketing strategies.
I don't believe there's anything wrong with seeking guidance as you explore new paths. But if you're not careful, this innocent need to learn more can become just another shiny object you chase for short-term avoidance.
A reality check
This recent book-buying experience was actually a setback for me. I've done well the past 12 months, only purchasing books I truly want to read, not books I think I must read to become more successful.
Spot the difference?
And it's not just a struggle with physical books either. How many times have you opened a platform like X or Medium, thirsting for someone else's take on things?
It's so easy to overrule yourself as knowledgeable. Yet no one else has the same experience or blend of personal views that you have. Why negate their value?
The change for me was not so much the adoption of new physical habits. It was finally accepting that my reliance on other people's experiences had become a hindrance. And I was settling for second-hand experience instead of taking a chance on myself and learning as I go.
As a result, I'm less inclined to buy books “just because.”
My love of books has not changed, however. I still crave the crackle of a hardcover spine, the feel of paper beneath my fingers.
But, as heady as these sensations are, I don't read that much anymore unless it's for enjoyment.
I finally accepted the psychological toll of my compulsive info-seeking habit.
Now, instead of spending more time and money chasing the success of others, I'm out there carving my own path.