I revised my opinion of earlier! This was to save myself the agony of whether to part with beloved books or not. However, I don't like EVERY book in my possession...looking for a particular title today I opened a cupboard at the bottom of the bedroom bookcase (yes we have a bookcase in the bedroom!) and came upon a stack of books in there, which I haven't examined in years maybe.
Two chick-lit novels, one of which I threw in the recycling cos of a porny scene, the other going to Goodwill.
A Mary Higgins Clark mystery (I know who did it, don't I?)
A few how-to-make-money-from-writing books from the same period, now obsolete, as being before the Tech Age; in any case I kept my Day-Job and am now retired and receiving a pension. For 40 years I longed to write for a living because I didn't want to go out to work. Issue resolved.
A book I kept was: 'Organising for the Creative Person.' Published in 1993, a note tells me the date I read it - I was engaged (how did I find the time?). I remember those months as happy but frantic! Maybe I thought it would help me then!
I wonder if it's worth reading again.
Another book I kept was Molly Keane's novel 'Taking Chances' first published 1929. I read it before but all I remember of it is someone who doesn't like the Hunt and who ate an orange before going to bed, which is acidic.
Worth another read. As is the novel by Robindranath Tagore, 'The Home and the World'
When am I going to read these? They're now cluttering up my bookcase instead of being hidden away!
Am I not too attached to my books? Is there a spiritual issue here?