I am a paper magnet. I don't mean a newspaper magnate like Rupert Murdoch. I mean a paper magnet.
Paper loves me. It is attracted to me and finds its rustly way into every pocket and bag.
Partly it is my fault. I enter second hand bookshops voluntarily. I treasure the days when I discover that an elderly clergyman has died and his family has shipped out his entire collection of Latin and Greek to Oxfam. I don't feel bad about it. It must be similar to how he built the collection in the first place.
However, recently I decided I was being overwhelmed by paper. I decided to go paperless for work admin. It cuts out filing - something I truly hate. I also use a Kindle and Audible for leisure reading.
However, books still seek me out.
After conversations I can't remember, people lend me books . I am too polite to return them unread. So they teeter perilously on my bedside table.
Recently I was one of the finalists in a Curtis Brown Twitter competition. What was the prize? Yes. Kate Hamer's latest book. I also won a prize in a free raffle which I did not even choose to enter. A book.
Maybe I should seek professional help. Except I'm not a hoarder. It really is not my fault. Paper just loves me!