shedding books

We’ve (as in two humans, two cats, a briefly lived betta, and assorted temporary insects) lived in this space since 2001. While I’ve decluttered and cleaned before, cruft inevitably creeps in. An odd little ball colored red, white, and blue. Countless keys. Sharpies in a rainbow of colors. Twists and ties and clips. Twenty years after my D&D days, there’s still a few polyhedrals rolling around.

Many things have memories attached, and discarding the object sometimes feels like discarding the memory. The paperweight I bought in Prague while traveling to train Eastern Europeans about network security software. A tin butterfly from our time in Mexico when I was a child. The sequinned baby shoes I use as a prop in the flash class. I feel as though if I put them aside I may lose the thing that triggers the memory.

While I’m not ditching everything, a lot of these are getting digitized. I take a few pictures with my camera and stick it aside. Here’s an example of a book I’ve been carrying around since high days. My paternal grandmother got it for me when I expressed an interest in folk tales and folk songs. I drew on it heavily when writing songs for Armageddon, sometimes adapting songs outright, otherwise creating ones patterned after the originals.

It’s a hefty doorstop of a book. I suspect I’ll be able to find this knowledge, or comparable stuff, on the net whenever I need to. But at the same time, the object holds memories: sitting in my room in high school, reading through it, while the rain drummed on the roof and the locust tree outside my window tapped its long fingers on the glass, for one. Performing songs based on it as my bard on Armageddon, purple-haired, seemingly bemused but secretly sharp, Karaluvian Fale. I take more than just a photo of the dustjacket: one of the inside so I can see the font, another of an illustration, one of an enigmatic and very scrawly note. Enough that I’ll be able to evoke it, access those memories again if I want to.

What’s the best way to preserve these images? I haven’t gotten that far yet. For now I’m saving and tagging, and trying to shrink down the mass of physical stuff attached to my life.

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One of the things 2014 is bringing is all sorts of interesting and awesome changes, but part of that is a need to trim down drastically. So I’ve been going through my books getting ready to sell a lot of them. Many are from teen years, college, or grad school. Others are gathered at cons, sometimes with stories attached. Some sparked stories, or were gifts from, or were written by people I respect and admire and sometimes love. Some are signed. Some have notes jotted in them. Some are books that changed my life.

So far I’ve winnowed 700 or 800 books from the collection and there’s still a lot left. Not to mention there’s a storage locker holding at least another 1000. Argh.

But rather than dump them all at Value Village, I’m taking these last days to sort through them. Because some of these books are old, old friends. So I’m checking them on Amazon (and finding a few worth unexpectedly more, which is nice) and listing all the ones for sale in a spreadsheet, with a few notes and a price. A few I’m putting aside to give to specific people. There’s two boxes laid aside already for my godchildren.

My plan with the ones for sale is to give my two best friends, my brother, and my mom first crack to see if there’s any they want. (Or any that are actually already theirs, in mom’s case, since the boundary between my mom’s books and mine has been pretty fluid from time to time.)

After that, time to see if I can get a little filthy lucre for them. I’ll offer to share the spreadsheet with my writing group, students, other friends, and anyone else interested. (Drop a line here if you are.) Lots of fiction, particularly short stories, a lot of Women’s Studies texts, assorted odd bits and interesting historical stuff. The usual round of books about writing.

I’ll be blogging about some of the books as I hit them. After this comes a similar pass at all the knick-knackery I have accumulated. Not looking forward to that too much, but there’s also a good feeling, a wind-through-one’s-soul feeling that comes with shedding stuff.

I’ll keep you posted.