We started cleaning out the garage because of well, reasons and stuff. We do this every year about this time and every year I find myself giving away my books. This time was no exception, and I got rid of a load of books from my childhood.
I mean, I got rid of Haymeadow and The River (the sequel to The Hatchet). I was going to keep A Wild Sheep Chase, but decided that I was just delaying the inevitable and put it in the box. I like that book a lot, and I was hesitant to buy it originally because it was so damn expensive. ($13.99 like ten plus years ago)
I also got rid of my collection of Katherine Kerr novels. I had the entire Deverry series which, oddly enough, I bought the first one from a Good Will many moons ago.
I have a few more books to take this weekend, and every single one makes me sad. On that note, however, I found my copy of Summer of Monkeys. This is a novel I refer to all the time, but no one else seems to have heard of. It’s by Wilson Rawles, the guy who wrote Where the Red Fern Grows.
My Grandma would always refer to Wilson Rawles whenever I thought my writing was terrible because he had terrible grammar and couldn’t sell his writing. So he burned it all in a fire. Then his wife (English teacher) edited Where the Red Fern Grows, and it became a classic. Think of all the other awesome stories we’d have by him if people didn’t discount his writing to the point where he burned decades of work.
It seems like when I clean out my books I always find a hidden gem I’ve forgotten about. Last year, I found From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler last year. I have vivid memories of them bathing in fountains. I try to explain it to people and no one seems to get it. Sigh.
I also kept The Great Gatsby but donated my copy of Sons and Lovers. I am always hesitant to donate “classics” because I feel like they make me look smarter from their perch on my shelf. (And I’ve actually read them.)
I think I’m going to get rid of my Star Wars novels, but I really don’t want to because I like them. It’s like my Vampire the Masquerade novels. I like them dammit, and you can’t make me get rid of them. Then the next year I get rid of them. (This time it was Deverry.) I wish there was an easier way to store books, like on an electronic device or something…