Parting with Dead Tree Books

A beach on Gabriola Island

We headed over to our cabin on Gabriola for the Victoria Day long weekend, with books, newspapers and a long list of To-Dos. I had my laptop, but forgot my power cord. Looking back I wonder if a part of me planned that. My only connection with the world was a cell phone, and that doesn’t work so well over there as signal strength is shall we say “occasional”.

Saturday, we drank in the sunny weather and spent hours on the back deck listening to the quiet. The island is more still than I ever remember it being. But the birds, and sea lions don’t care one bit.

Sunday was overcast and Monday it poured. There was plenty of time to do my list of  chores, basically a good thorough spring cleaning. But I’m getting older, so I work on spot cleaning and let go of any pretense of getting everything clean. What’s the point. It just gets dirty again.

My focus this weekend was on one book case in the guest room that has been overflowing with paperbacks for years. Every time I look at it I sigh with a mixture of disgust, at the disorderliness of it, and pleasure, remembering the  hours I spent reading those books. It’s a collection of mysteries, and thrillers written in the last century. Books you take on vacation. Books that remind me of times past when I read them. Books that have a place in my heart.

“It’s time to purge,” I say, armed with boxes and a dust cloth.

But these dead tree artifacts are treasure,” a little voice whispers inside of me.

I sort through the books. The pages yellowing and faded are crisp to the touch. I hold them carefully, memories flowing through my fingers. Words, stories–books — mean so much to a reader. They people our lives in a way nothing else can.

Can I let go of them?

I start tossing, gently. I keep my collection of Agatha Christie. That’s a given for me. But do I need a copy of every Nevada Barr, John Sandford or James Lee Burke? Kricky, it’s  hard. What about my Chrichton, Follet and …the list goes on… collections. “The books are not getting read in my basement,” I tell myself, ” but they will if they make it to a used book store.”

I have to do t his. I keep a sampling of each author, but I don’t have time to mull over which individual titles I want. I could be choosing the wrong ones.

Why the Hell didn’t I  start that reader’s diary I always intended to write. Why? Time, of course. It’s always about time. So I keep some in one box, and send others to the Used Bookstore box. It’s a painful process shrouded in dust and memories.

I surface after a couple of hours with three boxes to keep and three to send. I’m covered in grime and feeling a wee bit grim.

Getting rid of old clothes is hard, but books are harder. I found it particularly difficult because we are in the midst of a digital revolution. Will I ever be able to ‘have and hold’ theses stories in a paper book again? What about my grandchildren? I’m not usually sentimental, but this was excrutiatingly hard for me.

I’m not so good at spring cleaning.

Next trip…the vinyl record collection:)

Author: Jo-Ann Carson

About Jo-Ann Carson Where magic happens … Reports of Jo-Ann Carson’s death on a Gulf Island are greatly exaggerated or, at the very least, premature. The eclectic crew of ghosts that haunt her head spill onto the page in two series: The Gambling Ghosts and The Ghost & Abby Mysteries. A Viking with existential issues, a broken hearted Highlander, a Casanova man-witch and a Pirate with a secret are just a few of the males her strong heroines encounter in tales of fantasy, adventure and romance. A firm believer in the magic of our everyday lives, Jo-Ann loves watching sunrises, walking beaches near her home in the Pacific Northwest and reading by the fire. You can visit her on social media: Website * Blog * Twitter * Facebook

23 thoughts on “Parting with Dead Tree Books”

    1. Stephanie
      I know what you mean. I’ve been saying that for years. It never gets easier.
      Thanks for stopping by and sharing
      Best Wishes


  1. Next on your to-do list isn’t the records…it’s a visit to my house to clean out the bookshelves in the basement….sigh!!


  2. I love that phrase, “dead tree artifacts.” Reminded me that there’s a cycle to life: most of the stages are painful, but sooner or later, all must happen. May your dead tree artifacts bread new life elsewhere.


    1. Shereen
      Yes, I agree. But the cycle of life is bittersweet, and I see a part of me slipping away with them.
      I guess I qualify as a hoarder.
      Thanks for coming by and commenting. It means the world to me.


  3. Jo-Ann,

    I’m hanging on to mine. I only buy “real” books of the authors I love. My husband has promised to make me a new bookcase, because my “loves” seem to be growing! He has his shed that you need a rope to find your way out of. I have my books! Loved your post!


  4. I did the same thing several months ago. I went through my book collection that had been stored in tubs and boxes. I parted with many of my favs, but they went to someone I know will read and enjoy them; my cousin. I still cling to some books, but for the most part, I send everything I read to family members. Gotta share the love. 😉


    1. Missy Frye
      I like that, “…gotta share the love.” That makes me feel better.
      Thanks for stopping by and sharing.
      Best Wishes


    1. Joan
      Great idea.
      It feels good to share. We took this load to Literacy Canada. They re-sell them and the money they raise goes to literacy programs for adults who can’t read.
      Thanks for stopping by and sharing your story. Loved your visit.
      Best Wishes


      1. I didn’t know Literacy Canada did that. I’ll check it out. Thanks back atcha. BTW, I clicked to you from Chickswagger because I saw you were Canadian, like me.


      2. Hi Joan
        Yeah, we have a literacy used book store downtown and they run programs out of there. I’m in Nanaimo. Whereabouts are you?


      3. Joan
        Don’t hate you. I grew up in Don Mills (a suburb of Toronto for others who are reading this) and I was back home visiting my sister in Hamilton, recently. Ontario has an elegant calm about it that I like.
        The number of stupid bar questions? Hmmm…I’d say they’re on par with stupid hog questions.
        Happy Writing


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