If I finish a book that has a sequel available, I need to start the next book immediately. When I say immediately, I mean in the same breath that I put one down, I want to pick up the next one. If it’s the end of a series or a stand alone book, I can’t start another book for days. Sometimes, I am aware that I am mourning the ending of something that was part of my daily life and the departure of the characters from the back of my brain. Other times, I am less clear on the reasons. I have finished books that left me feeling happy and content, yet I still couldn’t begin a new book for a few days. Is this the appeal of book clubs? Are the members collectively grieving the book ending so that they can move forward? Do other readers toss the finished book on a shelf and promptly grab the next waiting book on their nightstand?