Confessions of a Bibliomaniac

Now that I have your attention, let me clarify that I am not a bibliomaniac--I don't have the room. A bibliophile, I may be, but not a bibliomaniac. A bibliomaniac collects books. A bibliophile just loves them. I don't have enough room to be a bibliomaniac. In fact, when I come across a good book I want to keep, I have to make room on the shelf by getting rid of (i.e. giving to a friend or The Friends of The Library--to throw away a book would sear my conscience forever), another book. My bookshelf is currently thus: the bottom shelf is for my collection of comedic books, the next shelf is for religious books, the next shelf for all my Jane Austen books, The Dickens books, and some other classic (non-perishable and essential) literature. The shelf above that is classic literature overflow plus health books and my Dr. Seuss books. The top shelf is too short to be taken seriously as a shelf for books, so it is mostly decorative, with some tchotchkes and a few short books. This lack of space has helped me to prioritize, and has kept me from living in a house made of books. It is also a good way of forcing me to share, although when I have to choose a book to defenestrate, it can be a day-long, agonizing process.

My newest book is The Book of Hard Words by David Bramwell. That goes on an entirely different book case in a different room, with my collection of dictionaries, thesauri, and English writing and grammar books.