Three (ahem) years ago I published a post on Decluttering Books. I still haven’t finished reading the Felt—Fluxus, Joseph Beuys, and the Dalai Lama by Chris Thompson. Which isn’t necessarily an inditement on the book, but a reflection of how tough it is to get into the long form these days. Besides that pesky pandemic, there have been re-readings of Sherlock Holmes (perhaps the 19th re-reading?), Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God (definitely worth a deep dive, Armada by Ernest Cline (better known for Ready Player One), and countless mysteries.
At the time of this writing, on the solstice, I can’t think of a book that has grabbed my soul out of my heart and made me want to pass it on to everyone I know. That doesn’t mean I haven’t read one, it might mean I wasn’t paying attention.
What I have been doing is letting go of (gasp!) some books. 100 to be precise. 92 books donated to the wonderful, delightful free libraries scattered about town, and 7 books sold for the princely sum of $10 each.
Each book donated did feel like it was stealing a bit of my soul or character or something like that. Now that’s it done, I can hardly recall the titles. The whole process took about 3 months.