What’s on my bookshelf?
Well, what isn’t? I’ve got books of all sorts on my bookshelf (and by bookshelf, I’m using a very liberal definition of the word to include my eight large bookshelves, my bedroom floor, my nightstand, my Kindle, and anywhere else in the house a book might have escaped to).
I own mysteries and thrillers, many by friends of mine (I won’t name names, for fear of leaving someone out). Some of the books are new, some date back many years (none are stone tablets, thank goodness). A lot of them are inscribed to me with a personal greeting, which I find to be a nice touch (it also pretty much guarantees those books won’t be given away to charity or library book sales).
Practically every genre/topic is represented in some fashion: YA, children’s, architecture, engineering, coming-of-age, sports, romance, paranormal, career, marketing, psychology, fish (we used to have an aquarium), running, investing (we used to have money), and many others. I have a disproportionate number of books about golf and poker, and enough volumes to fill a (small) reference library with “How To Write” books (You can probably tell I haven’t read half of them…)
A few of my own books are on the shelves, as well.
One entire bookshelf houses my cookbook collection (hundreds!), which I’ve sorted by type. By cuisine: Chinese, Japanese, French, Mexican, Spanish, Hawaii, Caribbean, German, Jewish, and soul food. By food type: chicken breast, chocolate, garlic, salsa, burgers, pasta, omelets, and grains. By cooking equipment: grill, slow cooker, microwave, bread machine, dehydrator, and 9x13 pan. (I could go on, but I’m making myself hungry.) Of course, the kicker is I rarely even use a recipe. I’m more of a “wing-it” cook.
Downstairs, hidden from view of most visitors, I’ve got lots of science fiction and horror paperbacks. Most of these were acquired a while ago, in a period when they comprised much of my reading diet. I admit I’ve only read about a third of the ones I own, but hope springs eternal and you never know when Mr. Heinlein or Mr. Asimov or Mr. Koontz may tickle my fancy again. (I also think I own every one of Stephen King’s books, but those I’ve already devoured.)
Now, don’t even get me started on all the unread magazines I’ve got lying around…