It’s a strange obsession, this book collecting habit of mine. As I look at the shelf, I wonder why I hang on to the old beat up copy of Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth or even the new copy of Tony Horowitz’s Confederates in the Attic. In the case of the latter, part of the reason I’m keeping it is because I bought it at a small, private bookstore (the last of a breed) in a little town on the Northern Neck of Virginia. The store is called Twice Told Tales and I was on an outing with a friend of mine. I read Horowitz’s book right away–too appealing to put off–and loved it. I’ve been telling people about it ever since, especially the guy who could “bloat” and look like a dead Rebel along the side of the road. (Speaking of strange obsessions…)<\/p>\n
The issue here is simply space. I live in 1200 square feet, most of my books have been in the garage for months and I honestly haven’t really missed them all that much. So, what about Teaching Lolita in Tehran? Or Nickled and Dimed? Or the books by Jasper Forde. I’m NOT going to reread most of them…goodness, I would never get to all the other ones if I started doing that! But to part with them? The paperbacks at least can go to the trade store so I’ll get more books (small paperbacks that hardly take up any space) in return. Although I once, in a similar fit of cleaning out, took a huge load to the trade store and they only wanted one! But lots of the paperbacks I have come from there (I just pay cash) so hopefully they will gladly accept those, and I will make an effort to just run a credit!<\/p>\n
Many of the hardbacks are pop fiction that I got accidently from BOMC (getting out of that is also on my list) so I’ll bet the library would happily accept those and I wonder if I can ever think that I will get to them. I seemed to be mired in non-ficton and I can always check them out of the library. That’s it: the new rule is that I don’t buy any fiction! And I’ll get out of BOMC because then I won’t get more books I don’t need. I feel better already!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s a strange obsession, this book collecting habit of mine. As I look at the shelf, I wonder why I hang on to the old beat up copy of Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth or even the new copy of Tony Horowitz’s Confederates in the Attic. In the case of \u2026 Continue reading