So I had this crazy idea that I'd clean out all the book shelves. It was one of those jobs that start out with you full of enthusiasm for it, but then about half way through you wish you'd never started, but you can't just leave it because there's mess everywhere.
Basically I decided the books needed sorting into authors. Because they were scattered all over the place. So I took all the books from the back shelves and sorted them.
But then I decided there wasn't much point to it unless I included the inside book shelf as well. And not just the books, but all that crap on the other shelves as well.
So this is the pile of books I decided could go. Either can't remember them or boring. So either the library or the second hand shop for them.
Staring to get organised now. Bio's, authors, one offs, poetry and bla.
And inside. Next job is to sort through that box full of toys someone left there. They don't want to take them with them or keep them in their rooms, but they want me to keep them somewhere.
The highest pile there was Colin Forbes. I loved him. That was before I had kids. I can split my books into before kids and after kids. Before kids I could read more complicated spy mysteries with a lot of characters. After kids I went to easier stuff like Jackie Collins (she's the other big pile there), that I could read at the same time as watching three kids at the beach. Now I tend to walk around the library and grab anything and give it a go. Can't afford to buy as many books any more. Very expensive here in Australia.
Now Bryce Courtenay. He writes some big books. Reading one of his books is like a history lesson. Someone gave Mum one of his books for her birthday and she said she felt exhausted just looking at it. They're hard to read lying in bed. Take some finger strength to hold up. I think my favourite book of his is April Fools Day, about his son who was a haemophilliac who died from AIDS which he contracted through a blood transfusion.
Then I had to put all the books back. I have to put them two deep on the shelves and I always have a struggle deciding which ones have to go in the back row where they can't be seen. Tough choices. I read a lot of biographies and autos for a while there. These are some of my faves.
There's a book there called An Evil Cradling by Brian Keenan and it's probably my favourite book. If not favourite then definitely the one that has stuck in my mind. I read it about 15 years ago and I still often think about it. He was in Beirut in 1985 and he was kidnapped by Shi'ite militiamen and was kept prisoner for four and a half years. Most of it he spent alone but he did spend some time with John McCarthy who had a huge group of supporters trying to get him released. It was an amazing story of survival. And I notice it's not in the front row – must change that. What else, hmm David Beckham. I'm a huge Beckham fan. And not just because he's gorgeous and well mannered and well behaved. The knockers can say what they want – you don't get to be captain of the English soccer team because you look good. And there's Someone Elses Daughter about the murder of Anita Cobby in Sydney in 1986. That was our first really horrendous crime. The one I remember anyway. And of course Lindy Chamberlains story. Shame Australia Shame.
So now I'm off to clean out the ornament shelves. I hate ornaments. I'm hoping to throw a few away without whoever owns them or whoever gave them to me noticing.
Of course after I organised the shelves I realised I'll never be able to buy a book by one of my authors because it'll stuff up the whole system.