I love books. LOVE. I collect old books, first editions, author signed books, books on every imaginable topic and I'm not kidding. Eclectic is a good adjective to describe my hoard of books. Books fill every room in my house. The bookcase of vintage books, some dating to the early 1700's, pictured above, is only one of my collections. Not all my collections are contained, nor can be or should be, and herein lies the problem. Can I let a book go? Give it up, or away once I've read it. So far, the answer has been no.
Years and years ago when I was married to my first husband, we moved a lot. I remember the boxes of books, and the arguments they caused, and that giving up even one book was a deal breaker. The "deal" broke anyway, but not because of books, but I won't get into that.
I've always been obsessed with books and have kept a pile of books near me, as early as I can remember, (and I can remember way back. My first memory is of my father leaning over my bassinet saying, "shut up you little shit". It's funny if you really think about it that this is my first memory, but I digress...).
As soon as I had the motor capabilities to grab and run, I had a book with me. I was not a doll girl. I was always a book girl, (and a tree girl, as in climber on, hanger out in, reader of books in, and so on). My first grade teacher upgraded me to third grade privileges - I could check out more than one book at a time. I also spent as much time as my mother had to take us, in the public library. I still frequent the library, but checking out books and returning them does not work for me. I have to possess the books. Returning books turned out to be a problem. I have to own them, and then I can't let them go. Not even one.
When I was first working I spent equal money on books and shoes. I still have the books. Books were literally breaking my bank. Enter thrift stores and used book stores! Books of every sort could be had for a few dollars, sometimes even a few quarters. As you can imagine, my book collection exploded, but so did my reading universe. I have stumbled on books I never would have in an ordered bookstore or library. I've read more science and memoirs this past year than I have in the last thirty. And more fashion, children's, literary theory, self help, business, etiquette, how-to, autobiographies, cookbooks, travel books...
A book I just read stated that humans are hard wired for hoarding to survive. Okay, but, the abundance of the 21st century has nothing in common with the scarcity of Paleolithic times. It appears we are our biology.
Even though I am a believer that books (and art) can save your life, and many, many times it's been a book that has been my lifeline, it's time to let a few go. A few. Baby steps.
I've been spending the last couple weekends getting my books under control. It's either that or I post a Library sign over the front entry and open the doors of my home to the public.
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