Inside the Lives of Bookworms

April 22, 2013

So I’ve been devouring Great Expectations voraciously over the past couple of days. Like, to the point where interruption = death. It got me thinking about all of the funny little quirks bookworms have. We are an odd little bunch, and we really do a bunch of silly things.

Here’s what it’s like to be a reader:

Readers have feelings. Lots of ’em. We’re a sensitive group

I'm in a glass case of emotion photo tumblr_lk3wwyzz691qdmvgn.gif

On one hand, we’re incredibly easy to please.

If we win books in online contests, for example, it’s like a second Christmas.

When our favorite authors announce a new book or a movie based on the book, WE CAN’T EVEN HANDLE IT.

 Our world is perfect when we find someone to talk about books with us. Even better is when we receive books as gifts. It’s the emotional equivalent of a marriage proposal.



When in casual conversation, we’ll often drop the following one liners:

“So I read this really good book over the weekend.”

“What are you currently reading?”

“How did you feel about the way Inheritance ended?”


“I really need something new to read. Any suggestions?”

Yes, we’re a happy bunch. But we’ve got a lot of frustrations and anger problems, too.

 We don’t like it when you spoil the ending. This is how it makes us feel:

We don’t like it when you spoil the ending of a book we’ve forgotten we never actually read. It’s hard to recover from such a blow.


Sometimes, in daily conversation and happenings, we won’t be able to focus on anything but the last page we read. It will haunt us like a bad burrito.

We’ll stare at the clock, like, “Get me outta here so I can read my friggin’ book, dangit!”

We’re still bitter about the Eragon movie.

We get really angsty when we walk into bookstores or libraries and realize just how many books there are to read in this world. Like seriously. How on earth are we going to read them all?!



We walk into the store with the intention of buying one book, and then we end up buying three or four. We’re really bad at budgeting.

But mainly, we just get super peeved when you interrupt us. Seriously guys. DON’T DO IT. You might be interrupting the most important moment in literature OF ALL TIME.

We’ll get progressively angrier the more you push your agenda into our book reading and world-bonding time.


Then we’ll get violent.



Seriously, man. For your safety, avoid it.

Readers aren’t always just happy or angry. Sometimes we’re really stupid. Sometimes we’ll be in the middle of a good book when we have to drive somewhere, and sometimes, because we’re a total dummy, we’ll stretch it over our steering wheel to read on a back road. When you do this, you often end up:

Sometimes we’ll rave about the current Charles Dickens novel we’re reading and all we’ll get back is a recommendation for Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey. In an effort to avoid dissuading someone from being literate, we’ll be awkwardly polite about it:

But on the inside, we’ll be snotty about your lack of taste.

We will often come to the defense of the good stuff.

“Who even likes this Shakespeare crap?” they’ll say.

Being a reader isn’t easy. It makes you a cynical jerk.

It isolates you from your friends and turns you into the weirdo at social events.

It separates you from reality so much that you can’t even handle your life.

But overall, being a reader is the fastest way to become interesting.

Because few things are more beautiful than this:

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