Getting Rid of My Books

We go through two distinct phases in our adult life:

The first two-thirds is spent acquiring stuff.

The rest is spent trying to unload most of it.

I am squarely in purge mode. I can’t walk into a room without inwardly sighing, taking in all the crap I once thought I had to have. Now, I just want most of it gone.

Downsizing means extremely painful decisions loom ahead. That includes my large collection of books. All three floors of my home, including the basement, contain bookshelves, each filled with my treasures.

Anyone who has moved multiple boxes of books—and, like me, moved multiple times—will agree it’s beyond a pain in the ass. We love the things, and I’m glad they’ve always moved with me.

But they’re heavy and bulky. I certainly don’t look forward to doing it again. So I’m weighing my options, such as donations to libraries and non-profits, and even eBay for some of the choice first editions.

It got me thinking—not about the heartbreak of giving away my prized possessions, which is bad enough—but about why many of us love our little libraries.

It’s because we love seeing our passion on display. I also read ebooks and listen to audiobooks, and those are fine. But a digital collection stashed on your phone, tablet, or Kindle is cold and invisible. Those gorgeous covers are reduced to thumbnails. You’d never know the books were there if you didn’t click.

Those hardbacks and paperbacks, however, sit proudly on your shelves and visually represent your taste to visitors. And, although non-readers would never understand it, they provide emotional comfort.

I guess the same thing could be said about the album collections many of us used to have on display. Or for some people, their wall of VHS tapes or DVDs. The books, movies, and music weren’t reduced to a line or thumbnail on a device; they were art, for crying out loud.

Like many, I appreciate the convenience factor of ebooks and audiobooks. I recognize that, in many ways, it’s progress, allowing us access to a vast assortment of books we might never experience. I get it.

But the cost of that convenience is real. The warmth produced by a wall of books disappears, replaced by digital code. Another slice of our humanity served up as an offering to the digital gods.

I’ll soon be parting with a sizable portion of my library in order to downsize. Choosing which books stay and which ones go will be agonizing. Some folks might laugh, but I expect it will be one of the most depressing days of my life.

And worst of all is the nagging feeling that I’ll look back later and regret my decision. I’ll actually miss having to haul around those heavy boxes, and I’ll never again be able to glance up at my favorite art.

Progress sucks.

Dom Testa has written 29 books and is now trying to get rid of several hundred. The irony is not lost on him.

Find his books at DomTestaBooks.com and some of his other projects here.