Bookcase fever
I won't be writing up a review for the next couple of days, as I am tackling a large collection called I Like Him, He Likes Her that's been sitting on my shelf for a year. So instead I'm going to talk about organizing my books.
Wait! I have a point, I promise.
Today I decided to round up a bunch of books that I've been meaning to donate or sell. There are a ton of books I have that I haven't picked up again in at least a couple years that have been taking up precious shelf space. Most people like to collect coins or stamps or action figures or wine; I collect books. But the thing is, you don't just look at a book and dust it off every so often - it exists to be used, to be read. And I had to make up my mind about what to do with the books whose spines are still neat and whose pages look like new.
I began with the obvious: books that I didn't like. Into the "donate" pile went A Good Woman, Pretty Little Devils, Made in the U.S.A., How to Be Popular, and Guitar Girl. Stuff that didn't really impress me, that I didn't want to be associated with. Then I picked a few others that I liked, but was ready to part with. For example, Frederica was a book I liked a whole lot, but I decided to let go regardless. Some of these books were simply not my style, while others just didn't invite a re-read. This was the easy part.
It got kind of tough as I kept going back to my shelves. As I mentioned, there are a lot of books I own that I've only read once. Sometimes this is because of time restraints, sometimes this is because I want to move on to something new. I've got a lot of high school-young adult type of books, some of them a few years old - some of them shallow reads, some of which are heavier in message, and quite a few comfort reads. I kept the comfort reads and a couple that show a similar potential. I kept books that I know are funny, books that I know are good, books that I hope to read again in my downtime. A couple books I kept because I like the author too much to let go of them. I kept books that people have given me and books that can take me back to a different time in my life. And I kept a couple books that I think are impressive-looking.
It took me a while to figure why I was so obsessed with making sure I didn't toss out anything I would regret. You see, every book I read - will ever read - is a part of who I am; my reading experience is a result of how I interpret the words of the writer in question. And the way I bond with certain books is, for lack of a better word, meaningful to me. Even the organization from shelf to shelf is important: it means something that Fun Home is on the top shelf while my Harry Potter hardbacks have sunk to the bottom shelf. This particular collection of books - a collection I spent most of the morning trimming - is me. Not the whole picture, but a large part of it. And I want to kind of show myself off, I guess.
Wait! I have a point, I promise.
Today I decided to round up a bunch of books that I've been meaning to donate or sell. There are a ton of books I have that I haven't picked up again in at least a couple years that have been taking up precious shelf space. Most people like to collect coins or stamps or action figures or wine; I collect books. But the thing is, you don't just look at a book and dust it off every so often - it exists to be used, to be read. And I had to make up my mind about what to do with the books whose spines are still neat and whose pages look like new.
I began with the obvious: books that I didn't like. Into the "donate" pile went A Good Woman, Pretty Little Devils, Made in the U.S.A., How to Be Popular, and Guitar Girl. Stuff that didn't really impress me, that I didn't want to be associated with. Then I picked a few others that I liked, but was ready to part with. For example, Frederica was a book I liked a whole lot, but I decided to let go regardless. Some of these books were simply not my style, while others just didn't invite a re-read. This was the easy part.
It got kind of tough as I kept going back to my shelves. As I mentioned, there are a lot of books I own that I've only read once. Sometimes this is because of time restraints, sometimes this is because I want to move on to something new. I've got a lot of high school-young adult type of books, some of them a few years old - some of them shallow reads, some of which are heavier in message, and quite a few comfort reads. I kept the comfort reads and a couple that show a similar potential. I kept books that I know are funny, books that I know are good, books that I hope to read again in my downtime. A couple books I kept because I like the author too much to let go of them. I kept books that people have given me and books that can take me back to a different time in my life. And I kept a couple books that I think are impressive-looking.
It took me a while to figure why I was so obsessed with making sure I didn't toss out anything I would regret. You see, every book I read - will ever read - is a part of who I am; my reading experience is a result of how I interpret the words of the writer in question. And the way I bond with certain books is, for lack of a better word, meaningful to me. Even the organization from shelf to shelf is important: it means something that Fun Home is on the top shelf while my Harry Potter hardbacks have sunk to the bottom shelf. This particular collection of books - a collection I spent most of the morning trimming - is me. Not the whole picture, but a large part of it. And I want to kind of show myself off, I guess.
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