(Good morning. I wrote this post prior to the devastation of the fires in Southern California. My heart goes out to all of you

who live there or know someone dealing with this tragedy. I have donated to the Pasadena Human Society and the California Fire Foundation.)

Between books and paper notes, my desk has very little room for me and my laptop.

Do you have the same problem?

In an effort to free up some space, today I’m tackling book collections.

I overserved myself last year at bookstores on trips and came home with a treasure trove.

Have you ever traveled and books were your only souvenirs?

It’s amazing what you can lug around for weeks at a time.

Now I need to put them somewhere.

By a certain age, some of us have accumulated more books than the local library.

Yet it’s impossible to bypass the lure of a bookstore or a Goodreads recommendation or an Amazon nudge.

Believe me, I’ve tried borrowing books from the library, but if they’re good, I want to keep a copy.

Inevitably, a downsize becomes necessary.

Sad, but necessary.

“How?!” I moan every time I have to cull my collection.

Followed by, “Why?!”

Then, I wipe my tears and act like a grown up.

One way to do this is to select a random group of books, then channel Marie Kondo and ask yourself these simple questions as you touch each one: Meh?

Awesome book?

Can’t bear to part with you?

Then plop the “meh” books into a grocery bag and cart them off to Goodwill or the Salvation Army. (My library doesn’t take used books willy-nilly—there’s a whole process, like an interview, and your books are scrutinized by a former librarian to determine if they’re good enough. Too much rejection potential in this scenario for me.)

But after this initial culling, I still have too many books. (Bookstores! Goodreads! Instagram recommendations! It’s your fault I’m so weak.)

Here’s a more effective way to tackle this project.

First, pull every single book off the shelf and out from under the bed and propping up the picture frames and sitting on the edge of the desk and sitting on the floor beside the desk.

Then sort them by category: Fiction, nonfiction.

Then further: how-to books, travel guides, biographies, autobiographies, picture books, chapter books, middle grade, young adult, romance, mystery, contemporary, historical.

Are there any duplicates?

Books I forgot I already had and bought again?

Get rid of those.

Are there any I’ve already read and know I won’t read again?

Get rid of those.

Are there any I’ve never read and know I’ll never open?

Get rid of those.

Are there any I use for reference?

Hang onto them.

But do I really use them for reference or can I Google the information instead?

Get rid of them.

Take a look at the how-tos.

Are some of the titles similar to each other?

Do I really need books so similar?

Is the book old?

Is its information even relevant?

If not, get rid of them.

If you’re a writer and some of your collection includes mentor texts, do you still need them?

If you’ve already written the book, you don’t need the mentor texts anymore.

Get rid of them.

Do you have any books you’re saving because your kids SHOULD READ THEM? (Just me?)

Will they really read them?

How about ASKING THEM?

Right now.

Go ahead.

Text them.

Send them pictures.

Be ready with your convincing arguments as to why they should read them.

If you’re battered by a barrage of “NO!” well, then, get rid of them. (The books, not the kids.)

Go through what’s left.

Did you dog-ear any pages?

If not, you can get rid of them.

Which brings me to sentimental books.

And I will leave you there.

Because, frankly, I have no idea what to do with sentimental books.

But if you were motivated enough, you should have bagged up quite a few books and cleared some room for your creative projects.

Congratulations!

Until next week,

~ Gail

(Tick tock)

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