No, I did not spend last night drinking until the small hours.
In fact, the glass of wine that I am about to have is the first drop of alcohol I’ve had all week. Shocking I know. Wine, like coffee, makes all things seem possible.
I am currently suffering from what is known as, a book hangover.
My long weekend was made even longer by the fact that I don’t work Fridays. Meaning I had four whole days off. And over the course of those four days I did nothing but eat, sleep, and read. I finished reading five and a half books (I had started reading one of the books a few days before, but wasn’t able to take the time to get into it until Friday).
Four and a half of those were re-read. Though for me that still counts, I re-read old books almost as much as I read new ones. Plus, how can you read a new book in a series without re-reading the previous books? Seems impossible to me.
That series wholly consumed my life for four days. And for the week before then, because all I wanted to do was read, but couldn’t find the time. Now that it’s over (and I mean over for good, this was the last book in the series), I don’t know what to do with my life.
I want to read. But I’m not capable of visiting another world right now. Or, at least not one that I am emotionally invested in (also known as being, Bookkelmpt: “Finishing the last book in a series but you not being emotionally prepared to begin a new series just yet”).
I have a few books that I don’t believe are going to be mentally, or emotionally, taxing, but I’m still hesitant to start reading. Because Maria V. Snyder has taken control of my life. After four days, and nights, spent reading, I am physically exhausted.
I’m tired, my head hurts, and my heart has been ripped apart before being stitched back together again a dozen times. It doesn’t matter how many times I read these books, the stress and pain are always as intense as the first time. Much like any of Sarah J. Maas’ books. Though she is far more sadistic than Maria.
As much as I would like to read, or even work on my own story, I know things will play out the way they always do. I will pick up anywhere between 3-5 new books, read a few pages, or a chapter, then put them back down. Most of those will not be picked back up again for weeks, months, possibly years, depending on the book. Though when I do begin to read for real again, I am going to start on the Fever series by Karen Marie Moning. Purely because a very dear friend of mine loves the series, and we have similar reading taste.
Also, until my hangover clears I will be distracted with my own writing, just as I was before my reading binge. My mind wouldn’t let me focus on anything but the Chronicles of Ixia, so I had to read until I was finished. But now I am finished. And still, for the next few days at least, my mind is still focused on the world that I just vacated.
Unfortunately, it also seems as though television isn’t going to capture my interest for a while either. I have no interest in continuing with the show I am binge watching on Netflix (Orphan Black, Helena and Felix are perfection). I can only handle the most trivial of TV, meaning cooking competition shows. Lucky for me while My Kitchen Rules just ended, Masterchef has begun.
So, until my brain decides to stop torturing me, by reliving all the wonder (and horror) of the nine books I’ve just read, I will have to resign myself to being very bored, and unproductive. Though really, all that magic, adventure, and Valek, make the danger and pain seem worth it. Can’t I just live inside a book? I’ll take this one first, then switch over to the ACOTAR series, because Rhysand. Side note, A Court of Wings and Ruin will be out soon and I’m already dying. I expect a massive book hangover after I’m done with that, one that will lay me out for at least a week.
Now I’m starting to lose track of the point again.
So really all I can say is, I am glad that my liquor induced hangovers don’t last nearly as long as my book ones. Nor are they as extreme. After a night spent drinking, I spend the whole next day hungry. But that is the extent of the suffering.
Whereas with this one, my suffering will live on and on. Because there is another series to destroy my life. And, if that isn’t enough, I will probably be re-reading this one for years to come. Because, when it comes to books, the intoxication is worth the pain.