It's hard to talk about, but gosh...sigh. I want to try.
I took picture, a sort of twisted sad reverse shelfie, so you can see what I mean:
Those are all books. Moreover, those are all books that I voluntarily got rid of.
I know what you're thinking: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
I KNOW! I can't believe I did it, either. It was like a fit of madness came over me or something. One minute I'm a normal hoarder book-lover with lovely teetering stacks of books on all my shelves, and the next, I'm some kind of crazed clean-freak with an unreasoning vendetta against biblio-clutter, and a bloodthirsty drive for organization.
In all seriousness - wait, who am I kidding? I can't be serious; I'm too busy waxing melodramatic over the fate of my books.
Alas. It sort of did have to be done. We don't have a large space, and our shelves were so overcrowded something really terrible happened: we didn't have room for any new books.
I will admit, though, that it's possible I didn't deal so well with the culling process. I may or may not have cried a little. I also may or may not have had a last-minute panic attack and started grabbing books indiscriminately from the bags in an attempt to 'rescue' them.
In the end, though, the vast majority made it out of the house and into the donation piles of some local charities, so at least I can hope they're going to good, loving homes.
And now...we have room for new books.
I knew there was a silver lining in there, somewhere,
Do you ever clean out your book piles? Or do you keep every book forever? Have you taken a shelfie?
