I’ve developed a habit of buying a book when I see an interesting book. I don’t wait.
I used to add books to an Amazon wishlist or some other list. The problem with wishlists, for me, is that I rarely revisit my wishlist. The reasons why the book is even on the list are soon forgotten and I usually don’t buy it.
It’s not an impulsive purchase. It’s not a want, it’s a necessity.
While I hold the ideas in some books in high esteem, I see books, the physical object, as tools. I am no more delicate with a book as I am with a hammer. I mark up books with pens and highlighters, I dog-ear the corners, and I put sticky notes on them. Some books look like they’ve been through hell and back. Some book covers have a certain patina that only shows when they’ve had their wisdom extracted over and over again.
There’s a shelf in my office dedicated to books waiting to be read. I call this shelf my tsundoku shelf. When I finish a book, I go to the shelf and sit in front of it. I pull a book out and sample it. If it doesn’t hold my interest at that moment, I put it back. Its day will come.