  I have identical six-foot tall bookshelves in my bedroom, each with six shelves. They are monstrous, huge things that take up all floor space in my rather small bedroom. Although they boast two shelves each of picture frames (think blurry shots of New York and cheerleading mishaps) they house many, many books. And therein lays the problem. With the onset of my resolution to be more well-read, wonders the likes of The Bell Jar are getting crowded. Hence, I undertook the task of cleaning out the shelves. There are simply too many books I don’t reference or read.
Historical fiction seems to be the theme of my book ownership. Let the laughter ensue! The hookey-est of this genre: The Voyage of the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady Elizabeth I: Red Rose in the House of Tudor Cleopatra VII: Daughter of the Nile (ah hahaha… I know!! ) Red Scarf Girl Indian Captive Greater Than Angels The Journey Back The Molly Collection ala American Girl Summer reading, school reading (stolen from school): The Hound of the Baskervilles Tess of the Dubervilles Romeo and Juliet The Prince and the Pauper O Pioneers!
Then there are those which I plan on reading to my children, but won’t get around to. I just know it: A Wrinkle in Time A Wind in the Door Anne of Green Gables The Giver All Harry Potters (including the British-printed ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ and ‘Goblet of Fire’) All Shel Silverstein collections Tom Sawyer Heidi Black Beauty Robin Hood Moby Dick O. Henry’s complete works New Jr. Classic’s Fairy Tales and Fables All of them, going to waste.
The must be lonely, cold and ignored. Spiteful, even, of The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll (Revised and Updated for the 21st century) and The Perks of Being a Wallflower . So, I was in moral crisis. Who stays? Who goes? Does Absolutely Normal Chaos take premise over Bloomability ? Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging over The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever ? Fuck it. I’m just buying another bookcase. Affectionately… Anna 
