I own a library.
No, seriously, I own a library.
I just counted and the official tally is 678. Pretty impressive for a personal collection.
Okay, when compared to ‘real’ libraries mine may not be considered large, but I’m willing to bet I have more good books in my one bedroom apartment than my small town’s public library keeps in the entire building. I will also admit to owning quite a bit of crap, but there’s no shame in that: sometimes there’s nothing more enjoyable than reading an awful book and being able to say, “Oh my God, that’s such shit! I could’ve done better in my sleep!”
Note #1: I’m pro-silly brain candy after spells of reading heavy or dark works, and sometimes what you think will be shit turns out to be good, while what you expect to be fantastic turns out to be absolute shit.
And so it goes.
I’m a voracious reader but haven’t entered the Kindle/Nook era, due to my love of the physical aspects of books (and new—or old—book smell!) and the fact that I simply haven’t fancied an eReader. Will I one day venture into that technological landscape? Most likely, because while one doesn’t stop buying books just because one runs out of bookshelf space, one does cease buying books when one runs out of living space. I have not, however, reached that point. I dislike feeling crowded, and watching one episode of Hoarders is enough to make me pull out some crates, box up as many as I can part with, and sell to Half-Price Books. I’m not entirely insane, after all.
Note #2: the last time I took a load down to Half-Price Books, the girl at the counter got downright excited, her eyes lit up and her face glowed. She practically shouted, “This is amazing! You have some really awesome stuff and it’s all in great condition!” My eyes lit up and my face glowed, because that was one of the best compliments I’ve ever received. She then handed me a rather impressive receipt to redeem for cash at the register. Almost as good was the peeved look the guy to my left gave me, as he’d just been told the books he’d brought in weren’t worth anything and they didn’t want them. Not my fault, dude. Five-year-old medical textbooks are obsolete. Idiot.
Now, before anyone gets judgmental about my book-love—yes, some might say addiction, but I’m not on Intervention so it’s not a problem, okay!?—keep in mind that my collection is the result of over a decade of buying, reading, and finding shelf space. I have a number of books from my teen years, but once I turned 18 and landed a halfway decent paycheck, things took off from there. That was ten years ago. I rarely ever pay list price for books—used bookstores and used options from Amazon are the way to go when one wants books but also has a pressing need to eat and pay the bills on time.
Note #3: “But you don’t understand, I needed to buy this new book!” is not an acceptable excuse for why one’s rent is late. I’ve never tried it, but I’m assuming it wouldn’t fly.
One exception to the above ‘used books are awesome’ rule: I will pay full price for books from self-published authors. It’s like buying music from unsigned artists instead of downloading it through, ahem, other means on the internet. A way to support new writers who otherwise might not have the chance to get their stuff out there by bypassing a business model that’s damn near impossible to access, and a way to encourage a change in the market. Yes, there’s a high probability that the book will be shit. And yes, the covers are often awful and, if you buy the physical book instead of the eBook, they’re almost always those cheap-looking Create Space editions. But none of that matters when you get lucky, when you hit the literary jackpot and turn into a squealing, flailing fangirl over a book that very few people in the world have heard of, let alone read.
Note #4: I recently found a new book to add my list of favorites this way, one that made me happy sigh at the end. Sir Thomas the Hesitant and the Table of Less Valued Knights by Liam Perrin. My review is here.
I love books. I’m a geek. But I do have a life: I have friends I see on a consistent basis, I have a bar or two where I’m a regular and am known by name, I’m halfway decent with a pool stick, I’ll occasionally attend a ballet or theater production, I see my family every so often, and I’m a pretty outgoing person. I have what one could call a large personality (and some have called obnoxious—to-may-to, to-mah-to). I enjoy going out.
But I’m also one of those people perfectly content to stay home on a Saturday night, puttering around in my PJs and rearranging my bookshelves simply because I can, because it’s fun.
As booklover and writer, I stand proud.
I am a lit geek.
Note #5: If you are of the opinion that I’m too much of a lit geek, I say nonsense, there’s no such thing. If you are of the opinion that I have an addiction, I point out that at least my addiction is books and not, say, heroin or sex. Or heroin and sex. Books don’t ruin lives…unless one ends up qualifying to be on Hoarders. I’m doing my best to avoid that.)
And one day, oh yes, one fine day, my books will join the hundreds of others already on my shelves. In a sense they’re already there: once I complete a work, I print it up, put it nicely in a binder, and add it to the special shelf reserved just for them. But one day there will be nifty covers and my name on the front, titles printed on the cover instead of scrawled on the side in permanent marker, official releases from a publishing house that I can point to and yell, “Look! I’m an author!”
And when that day finally comes, when I can spend a Saturday rearranging my bookshelves in order to add my very own to the mix, well…
On that day I’ll have 679 books.
And now, the grand reveal. Welcome to my library (aka my living and dining rooms):
My Living Room
these stand side by side against one wall, separated by a desk
cropped out of the photo in the interest of not being able to get them
all in one picture
My Dining Room
these too stand side by side, separated by only a few inches
but due to a camwhoring hanging lamp, I had to separate them
And somehow I still have plenty of room in my apartment, no feeling of being overcrowded, no tripping over them or running into them in the middle of the night. This is where I thank God that in a small town such as this, one can get a good deal of space for a relatively small amount of money.