Today I am not going to be getting much writing done, I am fairly certain, but I am currently planning on organizing our apartment a little more than it has been in the past. This may not sound particularly exciting to much of anyone, and truthfully, the idea of cleaning doesn’t appeal all that much to me either… but then I remember that today’s cleaning is going to be organizing books.
Yes, books. Our apartment is overflowing with books. My husband, Jarrod, has about a two foot tall stack of books on his side of the bedroom… the rest of the books – bags, and boxes, and stacks – are all mine. We have a small bookshelf in our bedroom that I have filled two rows thick with books, and somehow, I keep accumulating books. I have no idea why this is, but it certainly does help my creative endeavors, because by reading books by so many different authors, in so many different genres, I expand my horizons. I get new ideas for writing my own novels. I see different ways of developing characters, learn new ways of coping with plot ninjas, and realize that the world building I can do is endless. This is why I love to read. (Not to mention the escapism that occurs when I allow myself to get truly lost in a book. What bliss!!)
Recently, I have had an acquaintance comment on my reading. She is a very picky reader, and she said that she wishes that she could read anything as I tend to. (Well, “anything” is excluding harlequin romance and Westerns, since those are just not appealing to me. But anything else I will at least try!!) I never really truly realized what a gift that is. I don’t know what draws me to certain books, but whenever I am buying books, I buy an assortment of different ones. I don’t particularly care if they are perfectly written, although like any other writer or bibliophile, I do so enjoy it when beautiful language is used. I read books from Trollope’s Palliser novels (and Chronicles of Barsetshire) to Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series… from Jodi Picoult’s heartwrenching stories to Terry Pratchett’s comedic novels… from Mary Norton’s The Borrowers series to different series’ by Beverly Lewis. I am currently laughing and crying my way through The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, among other books. Even though it’s young adult fiction, it has a place somewhere in the hearts of many, even among people who aren’t normally fans of YA fiction.
So today, I will be taking stacks and piles and boxes and bags of books, and finding them a new home in our apartment. No more sitting on the floor. We’re going to be cleaning off a huge set of bookshelves that served as our pantry for some years, until we got new shelves in our kitchen. I recently realized that we could reorganize and make those shelves into a place where I can store my miscellany of novels. This is indeed a happy thing!! It makes me sad seeing books on the floor, because although they act as a good insulator in our bedroom (drafty walls, cold winter…), I tend to knock stacks over by accidentally stubbing my toe against the bottom-most book, etc. So instead of annoying, frustrating, and tiring organizing, I am full of energy (and cinnamon tea) to get going on this project!!