My Books Are Invisible and I Want Them Back
There used to be a thing that happened when someone came to your house. They'd drift over to your bookshelf. They'd tilt their head sideways to read the spines. And then the conversation would start. "Oh, you read Gödel, Escher, Bach?" or "Wait, you have the whole Dresden Files?" or just a long knowing look when they spotted the Ursula Le Guin.
Your bookshelf was a social artifact. It was a portrait of your mind sitting right there in the room.
I've read over 200 books in the last decade. You'd never know it walking into my house. They live on my Kindle. A few more on Audible. The physical shelves have some old favorites and a lot of decorative objects I don't know what to do with. The library I've actually built is invisible.
I wanted to fix that.
