Why I Won’t Lend You My Unread Book

Today, I want to delve into a topic that’s close to my heart and likely resonates with many of you: the sacred act of lending books. Or rather, the absolute aversion to lending an unread book. Before you call me possessive or overly cautious, let me explain why I’m firmly in the “no unread book lending” camp. It’s not about being possessive—it’s about safeguarding the sanctity of my literary treasures.

The Golden Rule: I Must Read It First

Let’s get one thing straight: you absolutely cannot borrow my book if I haven’t read it yet. It’s a simple rule I’ve established, and I stand by it without hesitation. Some might call it a bookish quirk, but to me, it’s a fundamental principle that preserves the magic of my reading experience. To me, books are more than just ink on paper—they’re vessels of stories, emotions, and memories. Each one holds a unique journey waiting to unfold. That’s precisely why I treat my books like precious objects, and why I hesitate to hand them over without having experienced that journey myself.

A Matter of Trust

Let’s address the elephant in the room: trust issues. It’s not that I don’t trust you, dear friend, but lending an unread book involves more than just placing it in someone else’s hands. It’s about entrusting my emotions, my anticipation, and my excitement for what’s to come into your care. And I won’t lie—it’s a big ask. When it comes to lending unread books, the potential for damage is a lurking nightmare. A slight crease on a page, a coffee stain, or the spine getting an unintended workout—these possibilities haunt my bookish dreams. My books are pristine when they enter my world, and I’m determined to keep them that way.

The Reluctant Return Syndrome

Then there’s the matter of return. Borrowed books have a tendency to find cosy spots on other bookshelves, settling in as if they’ve found a new home. And while I trust your intentions, the fear of a book never making its way back to my shelf gnaws at me. Call it the “reluctant return syndrome,” if you will. In fact, I’ve had this happen to me, to a rare out of print trilogy, and my favourite at the time! I am literally traumatised by this, and I will never let it happen again.

In Conclusion

So, there you have it—my firm stance on lending unread books. It’s not about being possessive or distrusting you. It’s about honoring the journey each book promises, preserving their pristine beauty, and ensuring their safe return to my literary haven. As we navigate our bookish adventures, let’s embrace the quirks and idiosyncrasies that make our reading experiences uniquely ours.

And to those who respect my “unread book lending” policy, thank you for understanding the special bond we have with our literary companions. Remember, every book holds a piece of our hearts, and sharing that piece is a decision not to be taken lightly. Until next time, may your unread books wait patiently on your shelves, and your reading journeys be ever delightful! 📚✨


About Nemo

A lover of kittens and all things sparkly, Nemo has a degree in English Literature and specialises in reviewing contemporary, paranormal, mystery/thriller, historical, sci-fi and fantasy Young Adult fiction. She is especially drawn to novels about princesses, strong female friendships, magical powers, and assassins.

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