Scott Stein and I have known each other via internet for some time, but it was only this past November that I had an opportunity to see him in person. We met up for lunch and a beer. We had an excellent time (at least from my point of view), discussing a wide range of topics ranging from serious to not. But there was one uncomfortable moment which I feel I must address, one comment I made that seemed to wound Scott very deeply.

You see, I have placed more than a thousand of my books in a storage locker.

Let’s start this at the beginning.  When my wife and I were first married there were books everywhere.  We both love to read, and we had time for it. She worked at a book store, and we made prodigious use of her discount.  We were proud of the stacks of hardcovers in every room. Fiction sat with non-fiction, classic literature beside science fiction beside fluffy mysteries, they covered every surface, shameless and adored.

Then we had kids.

Some of you may not realize that children are like a flood in the home. “Quick, get the books up high!” Anything that isn’t at least three feet off the ground will be soggy and ruined when a baby is in the house. Teething toddlers are magically drawn to anything you value, especially first editions and signed copies. We simply couldn’t save everything — our house is a ranch-style, all ground floor, no high ground. It was a bit like New Orleans, but everything was covered in juice and urine instead of brackish water from Lake Pontchartrain… which frankly might have been less disgusting.

After a while, I didn’t know what else to do, so I boxed up hundreds of our books and put them in storage. I had to do it to protect the books from my children. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I couldn’t think of any other options. My wife definitely isn’t happy about what I’ve done, and I know she no longer sees me as handsome. But until we have a safe place for them in the house, I don’t think it would be wise to retrieve them. They sit there in the dark, unseen I grant you, but quite dry and safe from little jam-covered fingers.

This brings us to my lunch with Scott Stein. When my book storage situation somehow came up, Scott looked horrified. He immediately took my wife’s side. He explained the way he had once fasted for a week in order to save money for the materials for custom shelving (hinting strongly that I would be better off doing the same). He cringed and shook his head and frowned at me across the table. “You… you just aren’t a book person, Jason.”

I haven’t slept well since. I imagine the books, alone and afraid in the cold, dark storage locker. I feel the disapproval from my wife and her coworkers at the Twin Hickory Book Temple and Shrine. Surely they all know what I’ve done. I keep thinking back to the expression on Scott’s face… I think he was embarrassed for me.

To quote Thomas Jefferson, “I cannot live without books: but fewer will suffice where amusement, and not use, is the only future object.” Thus I defend myself; the books I have stashed away are mostly novels that are in no danger of being re-read this season. The cheaper and fluffier, the less difficulty there was removing them from the house. Some of the Serious Literature stayed despite the child-danger, as did the many reference books. And keep in mind that for every book I took to storage, we now have at least two children’s books.

I must also note that nothing was thrown away; my plan is to have them all back with us when we move to a home that has space enough for all of them. In my opinion, we ought to have a library. Even a modest home can have a library… I would sacrifice a dining room or an extra bedroom, though neither would likely hold the entire family collection at this point. My dream would be to have a big library in our house, perhaps with a study attached. That’s not likely on our salaries, but I did call it a dream and not yet a plan.

Jorge Luis Borges said, “I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library.” That is how I feel. I’d like to share with you a website that published photos of some of the most beautiful libraries in the world: a Librophiliac Love Letter, they called it. I hope you will check it out, and I hope some of you, including Scott Stein and my wife, can forgive me for how I currently live.

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