Books…Books…Books…

Starting at the beginning—the novels, fiction beginning with A, according to author. In the living room. Simplify, simplify, simplify.

And the sorting, and placing, and replacing…the culling of the library, one room at a time. And it is time, I suppose, to be sensible about this. Going from carpet to wood floors is a project of itself. Having to move the many books in order to do such a thing creates a bit of a hurdle. And to be reasonable about it, there are many books that are not necessary to my life. Books I’ll never read, ones I’ve read and have no fondness for, books of lost authors—the ones I’ve outgrown or left behind. This is why there are used-book stores.

You see how I talk myself into this? I coach myself along, with each book I pick up. It’s time, I tell myself. It’s time to let go.

And that’s the way things are. Right now, tonight. I’m letting go.

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