Monday, November 24, 2008

Eclectic or schizophrenic?

I frequently check out other peoples' bookshelves for little clues into their psyches but I never really considered what mine might say about me. As I continue to load my books into LibraryThing, it turns out that my library says I am completely random. I've just finished adding all of my romance novels (yes, I admit to my formerly guilty pleasure--and the kitschier the cover, the happier they make me, as if I'm thumbing my nose at academia) but then I added the newest book we're going to read for bookclub and the combination/proximity of the bodice ripping of "Deception" and the staid history of "River of Doubt" about Theodore Roosevelt pretty much sums up my reading schizophrenia. In the interest of fairness, I am not thrilled about the latter but I think that's more a mood thing than anything. Winter tends to find me reading books that end happily. Everybody needs some joy in life when they have to be wearing twelve million layers just to stay warm. Plus, the kinds of books I read this time of year do tend to warm you up in their own special way. ;-) I rarely consider the strangeness of my collection but as I continue to add books (and I still have 70 book boxes to go at about 70 books per box), it's fascinating to see what a wild eclecticness I've managed to acquire.

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