Jack's Place

To Purge or Not to Purge

"Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

         Good morning, all, and I hope it finds you writing! I don't think I'm breaking any secrets when I point out that the Christmas Crush is looming large, and this always raises a myriad of questions. Questions like, "What do you want for Christmas, Grandpa?" Well, that's tough. You see, I have a fondness for gadgetry that would put a 12-year-old boy to shame, and sandwiched in among several hundred books on fourteen bookcases are enough artifacts of varying provenance to open a Museum of the Weird. Just from where I'm seated I can see a cup in the form of a steampunk skull and a cryptix, one of those odd cylinders made famous in The DaVinci Code with rings of letters that you rotate to form a specific word which then allows the cylinder to open. There's an antique coin bank in the form of a sailor (my father and I both served in the navy), sea bag over his shoulder, headed for his next ship; one of my sisters found it in a shop and simply had to get if for me. My Writing.com beanie is on top of the shelves, and I can see the fired clay rain-stick made by my daughter decades ago that still works like the day it was presented to me. And thereby hangs a tale.
         See, all of this stuff means something to me. I don't just buy something at Dollar Tree and put it on display. Most of it has come in the form of gifts, all with purpose, all with meaning. So when people ask Grandpa what he wants for Christmas, my natural inclination is to point and say, "more stuff like that!" But here's the rub — there's always a rub, isn't there? — If I receive one more thing like that, something else will have to go to make room for it. I'm not saying to the landfill, but into storage, probably never to be seen again, and that seems like a slap in the face to whoever's gizmo is being replaced.
         Enter my aforementioned daughter, an extremely practical child, who asked me back around last spring, "What do you keep all those old books for?" Blasphemy! She wants me to dump my books? My old friends? Just sweep them out with last week's dust bunnies? Has she never met me?
         On these shelves are R.A. Salvatore's complete Dark Elf Chronicles, my favorite fantasy series comprising well over forty volumes. A second edition Lord of the Rings in three volumes. Theodore Roscoe's United States Destroyer Operations in WWII, a volume I first read in 7th grade that turned me on to the excitement to be found in history. And many, many more books I have loved by authors I admire. However...
         Our house is not that big, and that's good for us; we aren't spring chickens anymore, and the less there is to clean and maintain, the easier it is on our failing bodies. But we have no room to expand, not without giving up living space, so I find myself reconsidering my attitude toward these books, some of my oldest and dearest friends. Some of these, probably a couple of shelves' worth, are reference books in various fields that I've used in my writing over the years, and can justify holding on to by claiming that I might need them again at some point. There are some that may hold intrinsic value like Lord of the Rings, but then there's the Salvatore collection, David Weber's In Fury Born, Kenneth Bulmer's Cycle of Nemesis, and The Last Parallel, the war diary of a marine corporal in Korea.
         These books and many more hold nostalgic value for me, many of them encountered at milestones of my life. Some influenced my writing style. All have their reasons for having permanent homes on my shelves, but am I ever going to read them again? Will they ever have any function besides displaying an inch-wide spine to visitors who rarely come? Would they be better served by being given over to a public library to be read and enjoyed by dozens, perhaps hundreds of new readers? And equally important, would gaining a few shelves for my nick-knacks compensate me for the absence of these old friends?
         This has become something of an issue for me over the past few weeks, as the "what do you want for Christmas" question comes up again and again. Have any of you faced a similar situation? Do you have any advice? I'm sitting at my desk looking at six of these bookcases and agonizing over every title I see. Just talking with a fellow booklover might prove helpful, so if you have the time I'd love to hear from you. In any case, have a great weekend, and be sure to stay on Santa's good list!

Stay inspired,
Taylor...

A postscript: Look for me to add something to my portfolio every Saturday. Tomorrow I plan to add the first chapter of "Broken English" . It's still way too early for reviews, but I'd welcome any thoughts if you'd care to email me. When it's about a third of the way done, I'll open it up for reviews. Hopefully, it's a killer story... See what I did there, killer story... like, there's a killer... Never mind. Have a great weekend!