5 Ways To Fight Netgalley Withdrawal

The weekend is nigh! Your life is already bound for a course of fun and relaxation, so let's throw in some funnies with Front Five Friday. (More)

We’ve all experienced that powerful hunger for shiny new books. And if we can read them earlier than those grabby and self-entitled peasants out there in the world, then the hunger deepens and becomes nearly unmanageable. One of our awesome privileges (as readers who deprive ourselves of social interaction and sunlight for the sake of inventing something to discuss on the interwebs) is signing up for online ARC-requesting services (Netgalley, Edelweiss, book clubs, panels, etc.) and gaining access to a Barnes & Noble regular’s wet dream. Eventually, it becomes easier than occupying the toilet to gain that access and too many of us can get—how to put this delicately—CARRIED AWAY MAN. Now, THE FIRST STEP is admitting you have a life and can’t afford an addiction problem. With that said, I’ve officially implemented a Netgalley (And Of The Same Ilk) Ban on my person. It’s been a strenuous eight days and sixteen hours and, for those of you trying on my shoes, I’ve made up a guide for successfully coping with the accompanying withdraw that is, unfortunately, unavoidable.

1. Exercise is good for you, according to the specialists, but is not always easy for everybody. UNTIL TODAY. You could try walking… to the microwave and heat up some popcorn for the next episode of Vampire Diaries or to the freezer for a mini carton of Ben & Jerry’s to act as a balm whilst paging through Jellicoe Road. There’s also lifting weights, so head to your bookshelves and try rearranging whole rows or re-read the end of Unspoken to fuel your hatefire enough to throw boulders through some windows.



2. Nourish yourself with nutritious snacks, and there is only one suitable option: cheesecake. Any topping or flavor will do. ‘Tis very much recommended to avoid drinking unicorn blood straight from the vein and anything with a hint of a rotten oranges aftertaste because those things, my friends, do not a good healthy diet make and won't help this process.

3. Don’t dwell on things like unpaid rent, an empty refrigerator, and especially everyone else’s tweets about request approvals because who knows how it’ll effect your unstable mind. In fact, you’ll just want to hole up somewhere in the ground until you’ve created a dent in your TBR or you’re sure that when you come out you won’t even remember what Twitter is… By the way, is Twitter like a dance or a singing bird or something?



4. Express yourself and loudly. Be as dramatic as possible so that you can focus on the favors people are willing to do for you as a sign of sympathy. Complain, whine, and babble forever about your condition so that you’ll be so busy annoying others you won’t even notice that Penguin still hasn’t approved you for Gameboard of the Gods, the last known request before a self-imposed ban. Not that we're checking or anything.

5. Be positive that you will be very miserable during your moratorium and most anything will do nothing to cheer you up. The sooner you accept that, the faster you’ll cope and be clever about distracting yourself properly. But don’t fool yourself into thinking all is well, because if all that cold sweat and shaking limbs is any indication, then everything most certainly is not okay. Get the picture?



So what have we learned today?

1. Exercise minimally.
2. Eat junk.
3. Go into seclusion.
4. Be dramatic about it.
5. Accept your miserable fate.

Think you can do better than me? Fine, fine. What are some tips you have to get you to stop your loose fingers from hitting that request button?