Like most reviewers I end up with a ton of books around the house, books I'm reviewing, I'm reading, I'm going to review, I might review, and I don't know why they're here but someone sent them and now I need to deal with them.

Much piling is involved with all of this.

There are also books going to my brother, and several to the assorted 8-12 year old girls in my life (no boys in that range I'm afraid). And there is the monster pile that will be going to Children's Hospital in Seattle because they saved my son's life and I know how much those kids there need something to take their minds off the pain.

Enough said on that.

But the rest - the rest are the ones I keep. This is the area that is the hardest, by far, to define. More than once I've been certain that a book has to stay with me forever and then a year later looked at it with a mixture of disgust and confusion. (This is currently happening in my closet as well. What was I thinking with all the shapeless wool sweaters? It worked for Angela Chase but she was 15 - I'm a little past that now I think.) I wonder sometimes if it might be easier if I was more focused in my reading, if I was intent on aviation books or biographies of Arctic explorers or even something bigger like British mysteries. I don't mean not reading anything else, but do you keep them all - do you keep little bits of dozens of different subjects and styles? In school we always learned to focus - declare your major, figure out what you're doing - get on it and get going with your life. (That's how I ended up with a degree in Aviation Managment which I had no interest in whatsoever before, during and after I got the degree.)

But the end result is a boatload of books on a boatload of subjects. And everytime I open another one I can't help but think where it will go on the shelf, how it will look up there with all the others.

Maybe I have a book fetish. (Again with blaming Sex and the City.)

It's a nice problem, a cool problem, a daringly intellectual and a little sexy in a bookish kind of way problem. But I have books stacked up all over my office and I'm just not sure which ones I'm ready to let go yet. I can't help but think how nice they will look up there on the shelf and I wonder sometimes if I keep them just because of that, just because I want to have them there for everyone else to see.

This is the part where I drift into dangerous shallow area.

We all want to look smarter than we are I guess - but I've actually read these books so what does that mean? Do I just want to be the person with the most books? Do I win then? Is that what this is about?

I'm reading Ernest Gaines' latest collection right now, Mozart and Leadbelly. And I'm keeping it. I already know where it goes on the shelf.