Backcover-itis

Undoubtedly the worst sensation that can afflict a reader is what I have feebly dubbed "Backcover-itis". I'm sure you know what I mean- that awful gap in your psyche that arrives just as you finally close the comfortingly weighty volume you have startlingly quickly become accustomed to dragging to the ends of the earth with you. Though it's more of a subtraction than an addition, really, like a piece falling out of a puzzle, or dropping a doughnut and being left with nothing but the hole. Your twin/pocketbook/comfort food of the past days or weeks is gone. The mystery is solved, the romance consummated, the tragedy settled. For a little while, you aren't quite sure what to do with yourself- your hands expect pages to turn, and your eyes are suddenly dehydrated for lack of fresh wording. You could reread, but such rebound reactions rarely result in successful recovery. You could begin a new book, open your mind to new people, places and problems, but often it's difficult to muster any interest when you are still so enamored with the previous set of such. Indeed, I've found that the there are few remedies that satisfactorily sate the void more successfully than the old fashioned option of patience. Time often receives much of the credit truthfully owed to memory, and forgetfulness has a highly underestimated quantity of usefulness. Letting the book recede gracefully from your conscienceness is the easiest and simplest manner in which to recover from your infatuation. Of course, if you are anything like me, the process must be completed after every tome you put down... But I've found that such practices often get easier on repetition.

(On a side note- I've set up a Yahoo address, so if you'd like to e-mail me, it is inkasrain@yahoo.com.)