Sunday, January 16, 2011


Nadir [noun] (nay dihr)(nay duhr)
  1. Lowest Point


    In an attempt to make room for a few new additions, I decided to reorganize/confront my entire library this week.  I was grabbing for a just-out-of-my-reach Tamora Pierce novel while preventing a tsunami of literature from tumbling off the shelf when I realized I had reached the nadir of my bibliophilism.  Up to my knees in memoirs, sci-fi, and textbooks, I saw just how many books were laid out before me, and I thought, “Geeze.  That’s a lot of books.  But … I can’t think of getting rid of a single one of them.  Well, maybe that one.”    

    And I’ll admit it: I wanted more.  I had a list of books in my iPhone that begged for perusal at my local shop.  Did I need to go on Addicted?  Perhaps Hoarders?  Or maybe even Celebrity Rehab (okay, this was a long shot)?  Was there anyone else out there who felt like his or her library was more than just a collection of papers, but a collage of his or her self? 

    Thankfully, there was.  Enter Forever Young Adult, stage right.  This post asked the question, “What does your shelf say about you?” and I think I’m ready to answer.

    The Library in all of it's Glory (Yes, with a capitol G)

    1.   I will never, ever own an eReader.  I love real, honest-to-goodness books, with book fragrances! Books are meant to be held; pages are meant to be turned.  Plus, I like to live dangerously.  Where’s the risk of losing your place or receiving a paper cut with an eReader?  Live on the edge, say I!

    Shelf 1

    2.   I buy books I plan to read and read often.  I may have started my bookworm life as a library rat (thank you elementary school library!), but I am now a hoarder of preferred literature.  See double stuffed Shelf 1 – which I love!  Double stuffed is really just another way to say, “I want you to be happy, books. Please, frolic merrily with your ilk on this shelf.”

    Shelf 2

    3.   I believe that books are meant to be shared.  Odd, considering the previous bullet, I know.  I have books missing from my shelf that are currently in the hands of those I am trying to educate on the wonder and miracle that is *Insert Name Here – like Hunger Games or anything by Mary Roach.*  I worship at the altar of these books and proudly sing their praises in public.  See something you like?  Let me know. [Note: I have been burned a number of times.  A book ingested by canines, a book finding a watery grave, a book chopped by a not-so-amiable lawnmower… Been there, done that.  However, I suppose I still believe that people are intrinsically good (Take that, Hobbes!) and continue to lend to those with a literary lust in their eyes.]

    Shelf 3

    4.   I am, and always will be, a lover of science fiction/fantasy. Shelves 1-3 are proof of this statement – Anne McCaffrey, Tamora Piece, Harry Potter (Hardcover – 1-3 received this year for Christmas, 5 & 6 preordered months in advance, and 4 & 7 picked up at two ubber-hip midnight releases at a local shop.], Stephanie Meyer (Twilight is the best cotton candy a girl could ask for!  Though, my preference lies with The Host.), Holly Black, (Team Unicorn.) Cassandra Clare, Sara Rees Brennan (BTW – Not only an excellent crafter of dialogue, character, and demonology that is – dare I say it? – logical, but the Best. Blogger. Ever.), The Hunger Games, Killer Unicorn Series, and my Jane-Austen-Meets-Zombies-And-Sea-Monsters duet.  These books say, “Hey, I get reality.  Really, I do.  I do not, however, choose to spend all of my time there.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a clockwork army to catch up with.”
    5.   I bow before wit in any form.  Alan Alda, Mary Roach, and Christopher Moore make my brain and funny bone(s) happy.   If you do nothing else this week, I recommend picking up Mary Roach’s Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. A lively read (pun intended). 

    Shelf 4

    6.   I went to college.  You know this because Shelf 4 consists of books that A) I cherish from favorite courses, or B) I really, really wanted to sell back but the promise of $5 for a $150 book just didn’t sound that appealing.  This shelf also alludes to my chosen profession, which may or may not say something about me.
    7.   Finally, I am a bit of a liar.  You see, this isn’t my only bookshelf.  I have volumes on three other shelves around my abode.  Now, the contents are not quite as telling as that shown above, but I still cherish each cookbook, classic novel, and coffee table tome.  Because, you must admit: There is nothing as splendid as a good book no matter where it is housed.

    Thanks for pulling me out of my nadir, FYA! Oh, and a special thanks to my library, whom without this post would have never occurred.

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