I love to see books in stacks.
I have them all over our house. Mostly because I get too ambitious about what I am to read next and sometimes because cool books present themselves to me at a bargain price. What am I to do? I have to have them, right?
Other times, it’s because I have gathered a few books together to take to our secondhand bookshop, or in the case of not very good books, to the charity shop. The pile usually sits there for a while until I get around to taking them.
The stack in the photo is different.
They are all mine. By that, I mean I wrote them. There is something incredibly satisfying about looking at a stack of your own books.
Until recently, the idea of stacking them up in one place did not occur to me, but toward the end of last year, there was a flurry of publishing activity and now it seems worthwhile.
I’ll put them back on the shelf eventually, but for now, I’m going to enjoy walking past them every time I go to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee (which is quite frequently!)