My Library, My Life

I stumbled on this little ditty at time.com today, the personal library rules of some guy. To be clear, the operative two-word phrase to focus on here is "personal library," not "library rules."

This dude is quite adamant about not having books that he hasn't read on his living room bookshelves. I have to say in all honesty that I have yet to read at least half of the books on my shelves. Sometimes I'm almost more of a book collector than a reader. (That's not strictly true, because I'm a big fan of public libraries, too.) When I get a crush on a place, time period, or new-to-me author, I start picking up whatever I can from that setting, era, woman or man.

Examples: I have at least four unread Roddy Doyle books (Irish author of the wonderful Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha); a couple of Michael Chabon novels, several C.S. Lewis and other nonfiction Christian works that I never finished for my book club in college, five Thomas Hardy novels that I collected after I was smitten with Tess and Jude, and stacks of classic anthologies, poetry, and fiction gathering dust. Some of these infatuations I'm not sure I'll ever revisit, but I haven't yet been able to make a break with the past either.

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I'm home alone for the long weekend. Kevin's sister had a baby yesterday, so he has gone home to be with his family and enjoy his new niece and his new title. They should have some fun days together!

I should try to get out of the house more in the next few days, but it has just been too easy to stay inside during the short-with-winter, long-with-unemployment days since we've been back in Chicago. It has been just over a month now, and I'm glad to be home. I'll be even gladder when I get a job, a place to put all of my stuff, and a little income. And a little sunshine!

Currently Reading:
Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold
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