I have a house full of books. Bookshelves in nearly every room, crammed with hundreds and hundreds of books, some of which I have read and loved (and would happily read again), and many of which I have never read but thoroughly intend to (in some cases I have been thoroughly intending for up to 20 years, yes 20). Books that I read and wouldn’t read again, I give to a charity shop. But in my last ‘really ruthless’ clear out, I managed to get rid of six.
And still I buy more. And more.
Yesterday I visited the amazing Salts Mill bookshop, and bought Murder Underground by Mavis Doriel Hay. It looks fantastic, so up my street it is untrue – but I have got it home and it joins a pile of going on fifty ‘to read’ books. Which is just plain ridiculous.
This has got to stop.
I am going to read the books I have in my house, and buy no more. For the foreseeable future. Murder Underground has broken the camel’s back.
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