Jimmy and I are both bookworms. We have very different book saving philosophies. He saves books that he’s never read, meant to read, or has not gotten through. I throw all those books out; they couldn’t hold my attention or time. I save all the books I’ve read that I love, that could be used in any teaching situation, or that represent a phase or change in my life. Basically, the only books I throw out are the kind that he wants to keep.
Both methods leave us with very little shelf space for books.
Here’s the thing: I don’t really like blending my books with his. It’s not that I don’t like his books, I do, at least some of them. It’s mainly how much I love my books and how they are completely different from his. I love female fiction, short stories, and southern voices, while Jimmy prefers non-fiction books about Lyndon Johnson. I couldn’t imagine reading 100 pages of that, let alone the 600 or so he’s read.
We’ve both influenced each others’ reading habits. I actually read Malcolm Gladwell now, and Jimmy has given Anne Patchett and Jill McCorkle a chance. However, for the most part, you could come into our home and pick which shelves are mine fairly easily.
We’re blending everything: wine glasses, dish washing styles, bills, etc. I’m just not ready to blend all my books, my stories, with his. Those books represent my long education and individuality. Really the characteristics that he loves about me.
What is it that you just can’t seem to share?