Guilt is a five letter book

Being Catholic would likely have suited my personality well. Apart from the bits involving God, religiously authoritative priests, condemning morals and numerous variations of abuse in the name of it, Catholicism and I could get along famously. I particularly find the guilt aspect appealing, or rather: at least I would have an appropriate vent for the rather inexplicable bouts of guilt I often experience, for the most random of things.

Latest in the series: books. This time in the incarnation of 'feeling guilty about volunteering in a charity bookshop, and buying most of my literary procurements thence'. The logic goes: I love books, and I particularly love second hand books that have been previously read and loved and important to other people as well. For a book to become second hand, it has to be first hand first, and before it can be any hand, it needs to be published, printed, written. If everyone buys second hand books, and especially if we all buy the books for £2.50, which doesn't go back into the literary community or literary circle of life, as it were - where are the new books going to come from? If nobody is willing to pay, there is a risk that literature will cease to exist. It is already moving dangerously towards being a commodity like shampoo and seedless grapes, bought in 3-for-2 offers and get one free. This fosters the type of literature that spreads like rot in the apple basket - the pink curly-covers of Cecilia Ahern and Adele Parks, or the blood-dark symbol-ridden Dan Browns and James Patterson. It fosters girl and boy books, gift ideas, celebrity biographies and uniformity. It strangles the little books, puffs up the boring recipe-writers (and I don't mean the cookery books, although they are part of the problem too) and takes the life and love out of literature. Literary culture is dying - and I am to blame.

Maybe I am not solely, personally responsible for the entire demise of the culture of books, publishing and writing, but don't we all contribute, and isn't it my responsibility as a literarily educated bibliophile to lead the way to salvation? I do feel strongly that it is time I change my behaviour to counteract this downwards spiral.

So how to defend ourselves against the great evils that have ridden our lands? Some say that online bookshops are part of the solution. On Amazon, you can get access to narrow titles, experimental writing, locally published authors and out-of-print editions that would be nowhere to be found on the shelves in Waterstone's and Waitrose. True, and it is certainly a quick, handy way of browsing and shopping, with the added benefit of discovering related or suggested titles that others have liked, thus broadening your scope and, hopefully, giving more back to the sources of books than by getting things second hand through charity shops selling over-printed stock for a fraction of the price. But Amazon and similar outlets are part of the process of removing local stores, boarding up high and back streets, moving people out of the city and into their homes. For rural communities, shops like Amazon are a gift, increasing access to tomes that would otherwise have been un- or very difficultly available. But for cities, towns and villages with bookshops, libraries and other physical fronts for the paper and covers that make up the great feeling of text to touch and see up close, it spells out somewhat bad news. To be used in moderation, one might prescribe for the online bookshops of the world.

My only other current strategy is to hunt down the great bookstores in my surroundings, find them, use them, shop in them, ask about books in them. (That's another advantage of the small, local bookstore - staff that know and care about books. Tesco doesn't, the marketing graduates in various sales positions don't - but it is likely that the kid behind the counter in 'Brosnan & Sons', and Brosnan herself do!) I have my next target in mind: Edinburgh Bookshop, I am coming to shop! A detour to Blackwell's may also not be a bad idea. And I have cheated by starting in Waterstone's today - where I at least avoided any 'Special Offers' and 'Our marketing department recommends', and paid full price for some semi-narrow titles that were remarkably non-prominently placed in the shop. That felt good.