Downsizing

 Releasing Back Into the Wild

The sacrifices of moving continue.

For the second time in my life I've whittled down my personal library. The first time was about 30 years ago. At that time I still owned every book I'd ever read. I carted those books from apartment to apartment, city to city, state to state.

Carrying 30-plus milk crates packed solid with books got to be too much, so I made the painful decision to release some of them back into circulation so that others could enjoy them.

As Jon and I continue our plans to move to New York I knew another purge was inevitable. In the three decades since the last time, my library has swelled. Despite the advent and adoption of electronic books as my main reading medium, the bespoke built-ins of the condo were bursting at the seams. I love my books, but I know there will not be room for them all when we make the move.

This morning I ruthlessly Sophies-Choiced my books. I turned off my emotions and relegated dear old friends to boxes. Each volume was held up and coldly asked, "Will I read you again?" If the answer was no, it went into the box to go to Half Price Books.

There were exceptions, of course. My trophy books, leather-bound editions of classics or hardback copies of books I struggled to finish (James Joyce's Ulysses, Homer's Odyssey and Iliad) will go with me as proof of my literary victories.

Goodbye Harry Potter, Discworld, Monarch of the Glen, Parnassus on Wheels, a dozen collections of Celtic and other mythologies. I'll miss you all, though you'll remain in my heart, my DNA, and my memory.