The Millions website has posted a helpful, highly acclaimed round up of some of the most anticipated books of 2010. It’s pretty cool, and for many people I reckon it’s going to be a handy guide for planning their next year’s reading. But no, not for me. At least–not yet.

Like everybody else, I have to be very careful about what I spend my money on. In most cases, I cannot justify spending $30 bucks or more on a hardcover book. I’m just not willing to make the necessary sacrifices to pay that much for something I know, in most cases, I can get for nearly half the price a year later. Or, if I’m lucky, I can read these books in the library sometime in the distant future.

The cost I pay for refusing to pony up the full price for new hardcovers is anticipation. All these excellent books slated for release this year? I have to keep track of their paperback publication dates, meaning that I have to remember the authors and the titles for possibly a good deal longer than those intent on grabbing up the first, hardcover printings, and if I spot someone mentioning an impending release date for a cheaper version, I have to note that down and prepare to have some money ready when the time comes.

Another cost of this kind of strategy is paid in social currency. For example: Roberto Bolaño’s novel 2666 made quite a big splash, last year–especially in The Morning News’s Tournament of Books (even if it didn’t actually win). I couldn’t bring myself to spend the money on the hardcover (the trade paperback didn’t come out until September), and the waiting list for it at my local library was too long to even consider (Number 185 out of 185?). I enjoyed reading the ensuing conversation the book inspired, but I was totally unwilling to participate in it. How could I make any sort of informed contribution? I hadn’t even tried to read the damn thing. But, that sense of being left out was not so bad that I was willing to spend $30 to make it go away. No, I found something else to do.

And, last week, I found a pristine hardcover copy of 2666 on the Friends of the Library sale shelf–for a dollar. One. Dollar.

(Well, of course I picked it up. Just in time for the backlash. I don’t know if it’ll be any good, but for a buck I’m willing to take my chances.)

This kind of thing happens to me all the time.

I don’t really mind not being able to participate in any sort of current, highly buzzed conversation, really. It’s a little weird not knowing what everybody’s talking about, but that’s okay. I can’t complain anyway, since it’s my own inbuilt cheapskate nature that puts me in this kind of situation. If I truly wished to be all hip and cool and stuff, if I really wanted to play with the big kids, I’d find some way to get the money together to buy the big, expensive, popular books. Right?

Sure I would.

But that feeling of anticipation–that gnawing desire to read that which is just barely beyond my grasp–is pretty good, too. The self-denial, the waiting, the patient, mechanical collection and tracking of release dates; that’s a kind of pleasure in itself. Because, yes, I’m going to read 2666 or whatever. And, whether it’s good or bad, the experience will be all the sweeter for having been delayed. Also, I got a pretty great deal on the book, too, so that’s just the cherry on top.

Here’s to you, Most Anticipated of 2010; I’ll see you in 18 to 24 months. (May I live that long.)