I spent part of yesterday looking through my shelves, trying to find something to read. Instead, I keep finding books that I have no idea why I am holding onto them. And I now have a big stack to take to St. Vinny's. With the added benefit of more room on my shelves now. Yay.
But yeah, I'm finding books that I pull off the shelf and go 'why the hell do I even have this?' I expect some of it comes from the move. At one point near the end of packing, I was throwing stuff in boxes. As a result, I lost several books I wanted to keep, so it stands to reason I kept several I wouldn't have if I'd thought about it harder.
A few of them I have because I know I meant to read them at some point, but now I'm all 'meh' about them. Like Bill Gates' autobiography. Meh. Into the thrift store pile it went. I'm still debating the Jack Welch autobiography and the Guiliani book on leadership.
I did start to read a memoir about moving to Alaska, but it wasn't thrilling me. That one went back on the shelf, because I know at some point I will want to read it.
I'm trying to go through all my unread books and either read them or get them off my shelves. Unless I have them for some other purpose - like research. Or they're old and I can't bear to part with them, even if I never intend to read them.
I'm also discovering I have a lot of non-fiction that I bought with every intention of reading, but haven't. And I haven't the heart to toss them. Someday I'll read them. Someday.
And then there are the books I've read, have no intention of reading again, but can't part with. I've been porting them over to the shelf in the spare room. I really need another bookshelf or two. Ack.
Or I need to be more strict about culling the book herd. If I have no intention of reading it again, why am I even keeping it? Gah. So many reasons... err rationalizations for my hoarding habit... Umm.
And then there are the books I would gladly toss, except they belong to Hubs. I culled some of his books years ago - with his permission - and he stills wonders from time to time what happened to them. "Where'd such and such a book go?" And then I have to remind him about the cull. =o(
I wish I never had to cull again, but there's only so much space on the shelves and only so much space in the house for more shelves. :sigh:
Do you cull your books? How do you decide?