The Unread Bookshelf

I have, by most people's standards, an awful lot of books. When I moved to this house it took two furniture vans, one for the furniture and all the other stuff, one for the books. At that point I had about 10,000 of them. On arrival I did a bit of a cull, and a couple of thousand went. I did another cull last year, and possibly another thousand went to charity. However, they had already been replaced by a handful more...

Looking round my office - a small room - I have five bookcases lining the walls, all with extensions so they nearly reach the ceiling. Each has eight shelves, each full of newly acquired books. I've just counted one shelf - 44 books. 44 x 8 x 5 = oh, I don't want to do the maths, it's too embarrassing. I have a book habit, OK? In the office, most of the books are on writing or books I've bought for research purposes or books I use as teaching examples, but there are a couple of shelves that house the unread books.

The unread books were mostly bought because other people recommended them, or I thought I 'ought' to read them. Some I've been given as presents, some are freebies from publishers. A couple are the third book on the 3 for 2s. The unread shelf is distinct from the to be read shelf, which is out on the landing, because I actually read from the TBR shelf. Deep down I know that I'm not going to make inroads on the unread shelf but still they hang around, worthy reads all, just not the choice of my heart. Perhaps one day...