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Apr. 24th, 2009 10:02 amI cleared stacks of books from my loungeroom and bedroom this week, because it was hard to navigate and because someone walked in and thought it was a bachelor pad.
I just looked round and now they're all back. Except they're not the same books. I swear, books have minds of their own.
"I'm not ready to be put away yet. Read me again."
"I'm by Alfred Deakin, I need a pile all of my own."
"Macaulay. I told you the first time. Youngsters never pay attention. You do not put me on top of a Biggles book that was owned once by Sharon whose name is written all over the back cover in red crayon. It looks as if a dog has eaten some of the cover. I can't bear to even be near Sharon's Biggles. I think I'll just slide gently off the stack and pretend that the ignominy never happened."
"Big fat fantasy - stacks - try putting us with some Ryman, and a best seller, and an alternative history. More books! More books!! We can reach the sky!!"
"Come on, you know better than to stack cookbooks. It's bad technique. Spread us. Gently. Like butter on bread. That's the way. You can't pick us up and enjoy us nearly as well when we're stacked. Look, if this is too hard for you to understand, we'll spread ourselves and show you how it's done."
"There may be only three of us but, by God, we're scholarly review books and, by God, we're going to look daunting. We would look terrifying, but that single horror book over the way is doing the job nicely and we don't want to interfere with his work."
"Calm down. We'll behave as long as this nicely-wrapped bar of gourmet chocolate is sitting on top of us. Although we're not sure that we're a match made in heaven. Dymphna Cusack, Cocina Andaluza and the Canberra phone book? Maybe it's time you ate the chocolate. It might melt. We could get hurt. Just don't put any of us in the same pile as the Macaulay. Or near Deakin. They'll pick on us, you know. Bastards. While you're sorting, rescue that book on London Bridge from the pile of random paper. You really treat us very badly. You need to sell your unit, buy a big mansion, and house us as we deserve. What? We said we'd behave. We never said we'd not put you in your place. After all, you haven't put us in ours."
I just looked round and now they're all back. Except they're not the same books. I swear, books have minds of their own.
"I'm not ready to be put away yet. Read me again."
"I'm by Alfred Deakin, I need a pile all of my own."
"Macaulay. I told you the first time. Youngsters never pay attention. You do not put me on top of a Biggles book that was owned once by Sharon whose name is written all over the back cover in red crayon. It looks as if a dog has eaten some of the cover. I can't bear to even be near Sharon's Biggles. I think I'll just slide gently off the stack and pretend that the ignominy never happened."
"Big fat fantasy - stacks - try putting us with some Ryman, and a best seller, and an alternative history. More books! More books!! We can reach the sky!!"
"Come on, you know better than to stack cookbooks. It's bad technique. Spread us. Gently. Like butter on bread. That's the way. You can't pick us up and enjoy us nearly as well when we're stacked. Look, if this is too hard for you to understand, we'll spread ourselves and show you how it's done."
"There may be only three of us but, by God, we're scholarly review books and, by God, we're going to look daunting. We would look terrifying, but that single horror book over the way is doing the job nicely and we don't want to interfere with his work."
"Calm down. We'll behave as long as this nicely-wrapped bar of gourmet chocolate is sitting on top of us. Although we're not sure that we're a match made in heaven. Dymphna Cusack, Cocina Andaluza and the Canberra phone book? Maybe it's time you ate the chocolate. It might melt. We could get hurt. Just don't put any of us in the same pile as the Macaulay. Or near Deakin. They'll pick on us, you know. Bastards. While you're sorting, rescue that book on London Bridge from the pile of random paper. You really treat us very badly. You need to sell your unit, buy a big mansion, and house us as we deserve. What? We said we'd behave. We never said we'd not put you in your place. After all, you haven't put us in ours."