Swapping your plum rewards for a library card

When I first started to enjoy reading, library books were my main source of literary consumption. In elementary school, the chance to spend a period in the library only happened once a week, and this was precious time. I’d scour the shelves, meticulously picking out a book to entertain me for the week until it was time to exchange it. The school library is where the seeds of my book-buying habits were planted.

Between the school years that quickly passed by, summer reading was always on the agenda. As the school library was no longer an option, my mom would take my brother and I to the public library. We’d enter, library cards in hand, ready to drop our old books in the return bin and check out new ones. Back at school, the newsletter sent home in my backpack each month would warn when the scholastic book fair was near. Once a year, the book fair would be set up in the school library. My mom would give me a budget and strict instructions to only spend my newfound fortune on books, not knick-knacks. This was my first introduction to actually buying books for myself. Hard decisions were made, but I’d excitedly come home with two or three new books, reading them over and over again before proudly placing them on my bookshelf. When I entered middle school, I fell into a massive reading slump- my library card lay dormant in a desk drawer. When I finally emerged out the other side, I didn’t go looking for my library card but instead fell victim to the idea of owning and collecting books. Before moving into my second-year student house, I bought a bookshelf from a garage sale. It was cheap, and the vinyl wood had started peeling, but I thought it a necessity. When I set up the shelf, it looked disappointingly empty. I immediately thought, “I need more books.”

Fuelled by the serotonin boost of shopping and the aesthetic of a full and organized bookshelf, I set out to have physical proof of every book I’d ever read. I pictured my future home featuring a personal library. I envisioned high ceilings, a rolling ladder to reach the books placed at the top of my wall covering shelves and a window nook with a bench. Compared to my dream room, an empty bookshelf was not an appealing sight.

It’s easy to fall into this gluttonous reading style when others in your own life or on social media are happily participating in novel overconsumption. A quick scroll on “Book Tok,” a realm of TikTok dedicated to rating, reviewing and recommending books, will display this lack of moderation firsthand. Creators recommend the top books they’ve read this month by featuring the physical copies of each novel. It’s easy to be envious of how book-wealthy these people are. Watching Book Tok reviews is like watching clothing or makeup hauls. It looks cool, someone attractive is recommending it to me, so I need it immediately. When aimlessly scrolling and stumbling across these videos, it's hard to remember most of these people are making money from buying, reading and recommending books, the funds feeding their purchasing habits.

I can’t sit here and claim that morality and my views on overconsumption made me question my purchasing choices. Instead, the state of my bank account shook me from my book-buying trance. The hobby of reading can be expensive, especially when you’re set on placing every book you’ve ever read on your shelf. There are so many other ways we can consume books to subsidize the amount of money we give to large corporations like Indigo. Re-entering your library phase, swapping the books you already own with friends, and buying used books from thrift stores are alternative ways to consume literature without bleeding money. And if you’re like me and much prefer to hold the physical copy of a book while reading, these are still viable options.

Looking at excessive book-buying habits through a critical lens can be a difficult endeavor as there are certainly worse things to spend your money on. You’re going to feel more guilty about the thirty dollars you spent on alcohol at the bar last night than the thirty-dollar paperback you ordered online because some girl on TikTok told you it was a “must read.” However, this doesn’t mean book consumption should be independent of scrutiny.

Books are meant to be circulated, with lifespans sometimes longer than our own. Passed down to friends, children or strangers. Switching owners until the pages are bent and the spine starts to crack. Of course, owning your favourite books that you reach for time and time again is a smart purchase. But when most of the books you buy spend ninety-nine percent of their lives collecting dust on your shelf, it might be time to re-evaluate your book purchasing habits and revert back to the library.