Do you ever find yourself counting down the days until that final book in the series is released? I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer to that question is yes. But then after pre-ordering the book, making sure you receive it the day it comes out, it just sits on your shelf. Waiting for the day when you will muster up the courage to say goodbye to the world that has long since been your safe haven. The characters that encompass your thoughts every waking hour while you’re reading the series. The quotes you spend hours reading on Pinterest, the character art you can’t seem to find enough of.
Do you bawl your eyes out at the end of a book simply because you can never read it for the first time again?
Are you ever reading in public then something outrageous happens and your jaw drops and all you can do is lift your gaze towards the distance, mouth still open, reliving the moment in your head over and over again? Thinking about it from every possible angle? Then, once your senses are returned, you can’t help but wonder what everyone around you must be thinking of the girl lost in her own world of paper and ink.
Do you ever hold off on reading the first book in a series, because you know there is no chance you’ll be able to wait for the next one?
Or, after months of keeping your foot down, those 5-star reviews and gushing bookstagram posts snag you at last and your guilty hands eager to buy the book finally get their way? And then you finally sit down to start reading this wondrous story, with the crafty cover you can’t seem to look away from, and the characters you can’t help but cry over? You near the end, and you know it’ll leave your heart in pieces, so you just stop. Stop but two, maybe 4 chapters from the end, right before things have a chance to pick up again? So you can live in peace until the next book comes out when you’ll reread the first one anyways. Plenty of books don’t have endings where this works, but for everyone that doesn’t, there’s at least a few that do. This recently happened to me with Cruel Prince by Holly Black. I got soooo close to the end, but I just couldn’t do it, make myself wait a year, dying to know what would happen next.
After reading for hours on end, does anyone else just have to look up and refocus their eyes and their mind? Akin to the process of how ginger is used to clean a pallet. You gotta clear your mind for a second, make sure your eyes are ready to continue reading?
You need the next book. Now, now, now, now, NOW. Soon isn’t soon enough. Right now isn’t fast enough. You’d sell your soul to the devil to get that book in your hands.
You’ve got it. That precious next book in the series. You live and breath that story, that world. You are a character in the tale, those are your friends, family, and loved ones you’re reading about. Ordinary life around you ceases to exist. You don’t sleep, and homework, once an annoying child hogging all your time, now dimmed into silence. Your phone? Nothing but a forgotten heap of metal (unless, of course, you’re reading off your phone. In that case, it never leaves your hand). You’ve finally finished, devoured the last words there were to read. The only emotion you’re left with is guilt, guilt for not having savored one of the best stories in your life. Too fast, this amazing thing has ended.
There are no books left in the world. None. At least none that could compare to the one you just read. You are lost, floating, waiting for a book that might make you forget the grandeur of the last. You’ve lost hope of this ever happening. This, my friends, is a book hangover.
Or maybe, there’s too many. So many books, you could never possibly read them all, but boy do you want to. The thought of this, the weight of your TBR pile, casts a daunting shadow over your thoughts.