I've been meaning to do a post like this for a while now but first, here's my loot from the library sale I went to over the weekend:
I came home with some pretty good books with Jim Butcher's Princeps' Fury and Dakota Cassidy's The Accidental Human being the best of the bunch. The Cassidy one in particular since I'm actually caught up on that series and was looking at a long wait for it since I wasn't going to be paying full price to get a copy. I'm already looking forward to the next one in early September.
Now...My bookshelves. I had always wanted to get enough bookshelves together to be able to shelves them properly - one row per shelf, no extra stacks to stuff in extra spaces, that kind of thing. I'm still not able to do that but maybe someday...That someday is going to be one hell of a busy day let me tell you but for now, cheap shelves from WalMart/Target/IKEA will have to do. Sorry about the crappy pictures but that room is a little cramped and it's hard to maneuver. Here we are:
This is the majority of my books with paranormal romances taking five shelves on the left, UF/F the top four in the middle, contemporary on the bottom middle shelf - that's two layers deep, YA on the top right shelf, and general fiction/mystery filling out the rest.
Over on this one is all the historicals along with some computer books and beading manuals taking up space on top.
On this shelf in another room are all our Stephen King novels, some nonfiction, most of the literature (I put them on the top shelf as a metaphor for them being "over my head." My husband just rolled his eyes a little when I told him.), and his graphic novels. The actual comics have their own room.
So these are my books. I love them, they keep me busy, and they are constantly calling my name.