Even though the unread bedside pile is precariously inclined to take a nose dive towards the headboard thereby burying me deeper than a Chilean miner, I still can't resist the hoarder's acquisitive instinct. Some characterize it as book-neurosis but I prefer to think of it as over-exuberant optimism about some abstract future when I'll actually be free to read the blessed things. Suggestions welcome although due to a delicate disposition (and a plethora of alternative lists) I'd prefer no vampires, no space cowboys, and no bodice-rippers. YAs need not apply. Oh, and absolutely, categorically, positively, and without equivocation, definitely no shamelessly self-promoting but regretably illiterate Goodreads authors who obviously can't read (or who are simply incapable of turning up an opportunity to peddle their kid wizards or whatnot even when they've been politely asked not to).