My overstuffed shelfies are driving me mad

Trying to find a specific title on my shelfies is like trying to find the Rosetta Stone, without the benefit of Napoleon’s army.

Recently, I was looking for a book I knew, with absolute certainty, lived somewhere on my shelfies. The *real* ones. The ones that hold my paper books.

So many pretty books on my shelfies. Now if only I could find them.
Here is another beauty.

Though I am a devoted e-reader (and devoted to my e-reader), I love paper books, especially hardcover paper books. Hardcovers have weight and heft. They have physical presence. They feel friendly in my hand. They can be art objects in themselves. Here, the first titles that come to mind are The Enchanted Wanderer: And Other Stories by Nikolai Leskov, The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker, and Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami.

This is one reason I have so much trouble getting rid of paper books, even the ones I probably won’t reread, or (ahem) read for the first time. It’s their beauty and sense of possibility. Continue reading “My overstuffed shelfies are driving me mad”