I have a problem.
Are you guys sitting down? I’m pretty sure you can’t handle this revelation if you aren’t.
I have a big, huge, tree-killing problem.
I have a glorious, word-a-licious, imagination fueling issue.
I love them and they love me.
The issue is, I get a ton (TON) of books sent to me each week and I love them all. I dream about them. I touch their spines lovingly. I put them in nice piles and organize them in my own unique way that no one else will ever understand. I look on them with pride, because my house is filled with more worlds and interesting people than just about anywhere but the nearest library or bookstore.
Books are here. Books are there. Books, books everywhere.
“Sarah, you do realize that there are these cool new devices called bookshelves that totally do away with the need to have piles.”
Piles. Because I have five floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in my house, it it took me a grand total of 30 minutes to fill the one I just got a few weeks ago up to bursting and start two new cute piles on the left side of it. Currently my piles are teenagers. Soon they will be adults and require a home/organization method of their own.
Can we all be honest with each other for a minute? If you read book blogs, you probably have a problem (a wonderful problem) similar to mine.
How do you deal with your problem? Do you have tidy piles? Do you hide your piles? Is there a method to pile-hiding that I’m not aware of so the general populous doesn’t know you have a (wonderful) problem (also known as the Spousal Anger Avoidance Method of dealing with this wonderful problem)? Or do you say, “screw it” and embrace your books, your book piles, and look fondly on all of the words, worlds, and incredible people you share your house with?
Be honest, my lovely readers.
Let’s talk books.
Let’s talk piles.
Let’s talk about our (wonderful) problem.
(This post is brought to you by the fact that I have come down with the flu and I’m too horrid feeling to think straight, as reflected above.)