I was surfing the internet and while doing a hang 10 with a toe waggle I found this. It is based on the Wondermark.com comic by David Malki at the bottom of this post. I was struck speechless by the definition of the word. OH MY GOD! it’s me I thought. I have talked about my love of books and that I have too many but now there is a name for my condition. Not only do I have the pack rat gene (thanks Mom) but now I have this too. Has anyone else heard of this, do you have it? Well I have decided that like the lady in the comic I would prefer to live with the problem than get rid of my books, so I am embracing my bibliophibia. That’s right you heard me “I AM A BIBLIOPHIBIAN” There I said it, now if only I could pronounce it.
You’ve got too many books. They crowd the shelves two or three deep, sideways or stacked any way they’ll fit; they pile on tables waiting to be read, re-read, or simply kept forever. It’s gotten to the point where they’ve started to multiply when you’re not watching — there’s definitely more today than yesterday. And it’ll keep on like this, until there’s nothing at all left but books, books, and more books. How glorious.
Others don’t understand, but you — you breathe the stuff. You inhale paper and exhale ink; you live between pages, and your habitat is the written word. For you are a bibliophibian.