Three months after moving house,
I’m still unpacking. I’m down to far fewer boxes, but far fewer places to put
things once they’re unpacked.
I’m now using one of the emptied
boxes to collect things I feel I can do without.
Reluctantly, I’m forced to admit to
myself that I’ll probably never open that mind-soul-healing book again – not
with several others in a similar vein already on the shelves. Amazingly, now
that I have two novels, two novellas and two collections of short stories
published, I can do without the book telling me how to get published. How many
instruction books do I need for a musical instrument I seldom play? Or for
software no longer installed on my computer? It’s time to go through my shelves
and make some decisions. Will I ever read this again, or that to begin with? Which
of the non-fiction books are outdated? Which will actually be useful?
Why do I keep those I keep? With
many of my fiction books, I keep them as reminders of the adventures I
experienced and the people I’ve come to know and care about between their
pages. A book on a shelf is like a photo in a family album.
Picking up a book, one can open the
pages at any time and slip back into its world of people and adventures once
again. That world is always there in potential, and I find it reassuring to see
all those potential worlds racked on the shelves around me. I love my Nook –
mostly because I can have my books and lift them, too – but the presence of a
solid book is a magical thing.
A book on a shelf is like a photo
in a family album. A person doesn’t get rid of any of the photos of people and
times that are truly meaningful. Every single shot holds a precious memory.
But, say you only have room to keep one or two photo albums out for display.
You can look through all the photos from a special event and keep one or two
that are representative, and file the rest in a box (neatly labeled of course,
to make future access easy) and store the box away.
5 comments:
We have book shelves in every room in the house, most are "double booked." I used to lend them and say, pass it on. Those were the ones that came back, so I'm surrounded.
Getting rid of the outdated writing and publishing books sounds like a good place to start. Some of the advice is laughable now.
I have three thesaurus(es). Many words have changed meaning, yet I cannot part with my " 'nice tomes'."
I think the worst part about moving is deciding where things should go once you're in a new place. Culling the books is always painful. My goal in life is to have a room like the library Henry Higgins has in My Fair Lady: floor to ceiling with a rolling ladder.
Sigh...
Jude, I've yearned for Henry Higgins' library since the first time I saw that film! When I relocated from a house to a small apartment 2 years ago I brutally divested myself of all but my most cherished books. Now I'm in a house again, and looking at all the wall space, and thinking about bookcases...
I wrote a bit about how culling your possessions is like editing your writing: http://savvyauthors.com/blog/index.php/moving-right-along-by-elizabeth-fountain/
Sixteen years after moving house...yes, I still have unpacked boxes. And way more books. I feel your pain, Naomi. I almost never get rid of a book or a ball of yarn. Yet I'm approaching the age when one starts to think of downsizing. Yikes! I can never get old!
Sir Walter Scott had/has a library like HH. If you are "over there," be sure to visit it.
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