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Why do I make this announcement? Because it is the first time I have been able to do so for at least ten years. (some of you know the rest so you can stop reading now or skip to the last paragraph)
Background: books books, everywhere books. I've been working at home since 1998 or so and at that point in my life I had to move cartons of books from my OMNI Office (where they had been collected inside my office and outside in the suite for 17 years) to my apartment and to storage.
I have been editing a years best anthology for about 25 years now. Books come in, most (maybe 95% go out) but that's still that means many books stay. And where do they stay? In my apartment until I persuade/cajole/bribe one or two strapping males to move cartons into my storage locker.
Anyway, incoming books start their journeys on my kitchen table, as they await for me to move them into my living room and bedroom where they will eventually get my attention and I will read them for the next best of the year. The horror books in the pile will be moved relatively quickly.
But some books --those that are not priority reading--ie not horror, or books that I've picked up (and actually even occasionally bought) that interest me enough to hang on to until I figure out what to do with them --those are the ones that start piling up on the kitchen table. And remain for years. *
So what changed you may ask.
Rick Lieder house/cat sat for me in early January. When I came home, the kitchen table was CLEARED!!!! Now those books did not disappear. In fact, they were all moved to a chair at the end of the table so he could work on his laptop. It was the first time I've seen the tabletop for, um....a very long time. As it happens, some new books made their way onto the tabletop but not enough to completely block my view of it.
Today: I've no idea what came over me but as I was making myself brunch, I suddenly got the urge to sit at the table. I gently shoved the small piles of books that have gathered in the past month creating enough space for me to eat there. (with enough room to read a magazine).
*I will admit that part of the reason I stopped eating at the kitchen table was the late lamented Dinah, who always insisted on eating from my plate and would drag food off when I wasn't looking.
Background: books books, everywhere books. I've been working at home since 1998 or so and at that point in my life I had to move cartons of books from my OMNI Office (where they had been collected inside my office and outside in the suite for 17 years) to my apartment and to storage.
I have been editing a years best anthology for about 25 years now. Books come in, most (maybe 95% go out) but that's still that means many books stay. And where do they stay? In my apartment until I persuade/cajole/bribe one or two strapping males to move cartons into my storage locker.
Anyway, incoming books start their journeys on my kitchen table, as they await for me to move them into my living room and bedroom where they will eventually get my attention and I will read them for the next best of the year. The horror books in the pile will be moved relatively quickly.
But some books --those that are not priority reading--ie not horror, or books that I've picked up (and actually even occasionally bought) that interest me enough to hang on to until I figure out what to do with them --those are the ones that start piling up on the kitchen table. And remain for years. *
So what changed you may ask.
Rick Lieder house/cat sat for me in early January. When I came home, the kitchen table was CLEARED!!!! Now those books did not disappear. In fact, they were all moved to a chair at the end of the table so he could work on his laptop. It was the first time I've seen the tabletop for, um....a very long time. As it happens, some new books made their way onto the tabletop but not enough to completely block my view of it.
Today: I've no idea what came over me but as I was making myself brunch, I suddenly got the urge to sit at the table. I gently shoved the small piles of books that have gathered in the past month creating enough space for me to eat there. (with enough room to read a magazine).
*I will admit that part of the reason I stopped eating at the kitchen table was the late lamented Dinah, who always insisted on eating from my plate and would drag food off when I wasn't looking.
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