Shelf Life by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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One way to know if you are a genuine bibliophile (aka bookworm) is by how much you love your bookshelves. This is more important than how many bookshelves you have. That could simply be determined by the amount of space available in your home. Therefore, it may not accurately project the depth of your love for books. It is more about how you feel when you look at the shelves you have. I have been known to spend time gazing lovingly at my shelves of books, taking them in as the things of wonder that they are. A warm, cozy feeling wells up in me as I contemplate my book collections. It's no surprise that I nearly swoon upon entering a library or bookstore. But the bookshelves I can view in the comfort of my own home are the best simply because they are mine. 

I have always dreamt of having a library in my house. Given the number of books I own, I suppose I do have one, but I mean one specific room dedicated to books. As yet, that is not a reality for me. Nonetheless, I take great pleasure in turning my entire house into a library. With the exception of the hallway, there is not a single room in my house that does not contain books. There are even a few shelves on the walls in the kitchen holding stacks of cookbooks. 

Despite the four bookcases in my living room...

     

                            (An antique from my grandmother's home holds non-fiction history books)

(A bargain at a second-hand store holds non-fiction and poetry)

                                                         (An online purchase hold fiction) 

(A rotating bookcase handmade for me by a very dear friend holds biographies)

... the shelves in the front entryway...

      This set of shelves holds a mix of fiction and non-fiction history books)

... the bookcase in my den...

(This one holds the books in use for research on the topic of whatever historical novel I'm writing at any give time.)

... the bookcase on the sunporch, and the five bookcases in my half-finished basement, I still have trouble finding places for all the books I collect so I've had to get creative.

The eight shelves lining either side of the fireplace once held a tea set, framed photos, and an assortment of knick-knacks. Four of those shelves have given up their accoutrement to make way for books.

(Mostly fiction on the shelves; Art & Photography books on one side of the mantel and Irish history on the other)

                                 

I have recently been thinking that I may have to find another spot for the tea set even if it means packing it away. There are too many books waiting for a good home. Many are currently piled in artful stacks around the house.

You may rightly ask if I've read all these books. Alas, I collect them much faster than I can read them. I also donate large amounts of books to the local library once I have finished reading them unless they are likely to assist me in research for a future writing project. This allows others to love them, too, and frees up space for more books. But no matter how full my bookshelves are, I find there's always room for more and even one small space on a shelf calls out to me for a book. This and the swelling of my heart that occurs when I take them all in, tells me that I am, without a doubt, a true bibliophile and proud of it!

                                                   

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