Insanity take 2
May. 11th, 2006 03:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hawkwing_lbI don’t know how many books I own. I know I have over a thousand in fiction alone, possibly twice or three times that amount. I’ve packed the boxed books in behind the couch, repacked the shelf in the living room, brought one shelf from my room downstairs and packed that (and piled more on top of it) – I have enough hardbacks to fill one set, one set of shelves entirely. Quite possibly my shelf-packing wasn’t as efficient as it might have been, even though books are double- and triple-stacked, because I still have about nine shelves’ worth of books in my bedroom.
Three sets of shelves remain in the bedroom. One and one-half are still full.
Looking at them (as I recline here, gasping for breath, trying to get my wind back), I’m astonished to realise how much my tastes have changed in the last six or seven years. Despite being still a voracious reader – as much or even more so than I was the last time I completely unloaded my shelves – I’m a much pickier one these days.
That’s partly, of course, a question of how much inflation has affected my book-buying habits. It’s too costly for me to buy a book I’m not sure I’ll enjoy: not being an earner, I can’t afford to spend E12.00* or E25.00** without the guarantee of some return.
Partly it’s because I discovered the internet, and Amazon.com, and now instead of being limited to the books coming out from UK publishers, I have a choice of new and interesting furrin novels. It’s a novel feeling, and my delight in it still hasn’t worn off. (Hammered! City of Pearl! Heroes Die! Conflict of Honors! The Family Trade!) I’m not satisfied with Raymond E Feist, Anne McCaffrey, and David Gemmell anymore;*** I prefer newer, different authors doing newer, different things. I’ll take older different authors too (Samuel R Delany, to name but one), but there’s a certain sterility of imagination among some of the older books on my shelves; a rather formulaic adherence to an over-used model.
Yeah, I want New! and Fresh! Not something that smells more than a tad recycled. I’ve been spoiled, what can I say?
And as I’m learning to write myself, my tastes are changing. I want to look at the experimental, as well as the tried-and-true. The linguistically startling, the talented, the truly astounding as well as the merely excellent. I can’t afford, really, to give shelf-space to the average (even though I’m hanging on to many for reference). It has to be a cut above. It has to provoke some kind of emotion in me, be it love, hate, anger, irritation, curiosity, fascination, or some combination of these. Otherwise it’s not pulling its weight.
Enough talk. Back to the book-moving!
--------------------------
*paperback price
**hardback, going up to E34.00 sometimes in the case of imports (Sarah Monette’s Mélusine from Forbidden Planet costs that much, for example)
*** To name some of the older authors on my shelves
Three sets of shelves remain in the bedroom. One and one-half are still full.
Looking at them (as I recline here, gasping for breath, trying to get my wind back), I’m astonished to realise how much my tastes have changed in the last six or seven years. Despite being still a voracious reader – as much or even more so than I was the last time I completely unloaded my shelves – I’m a much pickier one these days.
That’s partly, of course, a question of how much inflation has affected my book-buying habits. It’s too costly for me to buy a book I’m not sure I’ll enjoy: not being an earner, I can’t afford to spend E12.00* or E25.00** without the guarantee of some return.
Partly it’s because I discovered the internet, and Amazon.com, and now instead of being limited to the books coming out from UK publishers, I have a choice of new and interesting furrin novels. It’s a novel feeling, and my delight in it still hasn’t worn off. (Hammered! City of Pearl! Heroes Die! Conflict of Honors! The Family Trade!) I’m not satisfied with Raymond E Feist, Anne McCaffrey, and David Gemmell anymore;*** I prefer newer, different authors doing newer, different things. I’ll take older different authors too (Samuel R Delany, to name but one), but there’s a certain sterility of imagination among some of the older books on my shelves; a rather formulaic adherence to an over-used model.
Yeah, I want New! and Fresh! Not something that smells more than a tad recycled. I’ve been spoiled, what can I say?
And as I’m learning to write myself, my tastes are changing. I want to look at the experimental, as well as the tried-and-true. The linguistically startling, the talented, the truly astounding as well as the merely excellent. I can’t afford, really, to give shelf-space to the average (even though I’m hanging on to many for reference). It has to be a cut above. It has to provoke some kind of emotion in me, be it love, hate, anger, irritation, curiosity, fascination, or some combination of these. Otherwise it’s not pulling its weight.
Enough talk. Back to the book-moving!
--------------------------
*paperback price
**hardback, going up to E34.00 sometimes in the case of imports (Sarah Monette’s Mélusine from Forbidden Planet costs that much, for example)
*** To name some of the older authors on my shelves
