17 Boxes

I am in the midst of packing up my entire apartment.  We are moving not terribly far, but much closer to my husband’s office, and as a good wife, I am giving up my spacious loft office so he can have a much better commute.

Boxes, boxes, everywhere!

I’m really excited about the move, albeit the packing is a herculean effort.  More so since I made the gruesome discovery that I have 17 (very large) boxes worth of just books.  The weight of these boxes far exceeds the contents of my kitchen, my closet, and my husband’s video games.  It is the bulk of my property.

Now, as a writer and prolific reader, this shouldn’t be surprising.  At least, it shouldn’t have been surprising 5 years ago.  But now, I have an e-reader.  And if I’m being honest, the books that I accumulated before that… yes, I read them, but I don’t know if I’ll ever read them again.  Even though I find their presence soothing, they are little more than decorative – a display of what I hope my mind reflects.  Is it strange that I am questioning keeping the bulk of my beautiful collection of books?

What say you?  In this digital age, what worth is there in a collection of physical books?

In the meantime, don’t forget about my website contest — I’ll be drawing the first winner next weekend!  And for those of you Nanowrimo-ing — happy sprint writing!