Diane Whiteside Icon

Back in February, my family decided to sell our house. Given that we wanted to make the most money (d’uh!), we followed our realtor’s advice and emptied our closets as much as possible. End result? Sixty boxes of my books went into storage until we could move to a new town.

We arrived at our new home (yay!!!) and the moving trucks pulled up. Out rolled box after box after box of books. And more boxes. And even more! At the end of the day, my original sixty had at least doubled, probably more.

What did they do, in the darkness of the rented storage space? Send out shoots and gather up all the other books in that giant facility to them, saying here was somebody who can’t bear to throw books out? Sprout like mushrooms?

I’ve now got collections I barely remember. Passions whose scale astonish me. Okay, I admit I’ll buy any Georgette Heyer book standing still but that many boxes of cookbooks? I have every edition of everything Linda Howard ever wrote. <thud> (Okay, that’s probably a really good idea…) Did I really buy all those Suzanne Brockmann books in one six-month period, the way my family keeps reminding me? Talk about glomming an author!

Have you ever woken up to find yourself with stacks of books you barely remember buying? Do you enjoy gobbling up books by an author? Who have you discovered this way? Did you want to keep the books or give them away?

Diane, wondering what comes next