I love books. Of course, there are many out there like me, but it’s nice to be part of a global bibliophile community – no registration required, just BYOB (bring your own book).
For some people, their lives are measured in movies or music that played a key role in pivotal moments, which have stayed with them through years of change. I’d add books to that list.
My childhood can be measured from the Ladybird collection my parents invested in, to Enid Blyton and Greek/Roman/Norse mythology, to Nancy Drew, Alfred Hitchcock’s Three Investigators and the decades-old copies of Reader’s Digest up to my college fascination with fiction and fantasy which now range from Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl to Eddings and Feist, Arthurian myths and my current fascination with James Rollins’ Sigma Force and Michael Reilly’s ongoing series on the exploits of Jack West, Jr.
Hardly the stuff of classic literature (which I studied, and loved, in college) but they have a special place in my heart, and on my bookshelf.
Hence the recently concluded Big Bad Wolf sale – like most book sales – was an exercise in strategy, booklust and restraint. Strategy was required because there were 1.5 million books arrayed in a huge exhibition hall, and I didn’t want to miss any of it!
Booklust…need I say more?
Self-restraint was necessary for, as a former colleague very aptly said, “Space is finite” and that sadly applies to my bookshelf as well. For every book I bought, there were at least 5 more I reluctantly put down. Sigh.
Now it’s over and all that remains are the bags of books in my living room – I haven’t quite figured out a more permanent home for them yet, but I’m already looking forward to next year.