BOOKS BY THE MILLIONS...WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?

When I first started "shelving" my books in Librarything, I found it so exciting to see all my books laid out in a row, complete with pictures of the covers, and all the fun frillery that goes with it in Librarything. Listing all the books I had ever read, that I could recall, and many that I intend to read gave me a euphoria of accomplishment and importance. The process became obsessive for awhile. I paid my $10 for the privilege of a never-ending bookshelf and continued to hunt around the house as well as my mind for more books to list. This was wonderful, great fun. I recommend it to everyone.

Alas, now, I am facing up to the truth aspect. Up to this point in my life, I have had a somewhat smug satisfaction of believing that I am, indeed, if not overly educated, at least capable of being overly-educated, perhaps in the next life if not in this one. I love ideas, philosophies, possibility,information, and thinking that I am capable of developing all of these in my own mind. I've been a reader all my life. I've read about/studied (somewhat) many subjects. My favorite author is the very well-respected and admired Thomas Hardy. Surely I have a well developed intellect.

Question mark! Huge question mark!!! As I return again and again to my library on said webspot, the doubt of all this looms larger and larger with each visit. If I am such a bibliophile and such a brain...where are the many, many books I should have been reading? There are some very good ones listed, a few of the classics...a few. Hmmm...not really very many that take a whole lot of thinking to enjoy. Not many/any that would be considered intellectually challenging. I find myself incapable of writing good reviews.

Where does that leave me?

As I look over this collection, on a daily basis, it appears to me that I have been more of a lost soul, searching for...I don't know what, I'm not that smart. It seems like maybe, in all this, I have been searching for my own identity. So many of the books are how-to's. Mayby I enjoy how-to's. So many are there to help the reader establish his/her own feelings of worth. Do I have any feelings of self worth? Anyway, it is clear to me that the whole thing(lifetime of reading) has been a search for myself,not a development. I was trying to find out how to do this or that, and become this or that, and get done this or that. And, you know what? (you do, don't you?) I'm still the same unaccomplished, messie, searching for validation screw-up that I've always been. I'm not intellectual or smart, and I haven't read many "great books." I am so disappointed. I was having such a great time. But it just isn't there. It's a big collection of...not college level studies, not mind expanding literature, not something I could even discuss very well.
I said that I love the website because it shows me who I am. Now that I realize who that is...that just isn't so wonderful afterall.

Now, all the time I am typing this up, a voice in the back of my head is telling me, that those of you who bother to muddle through this blog will be rushing to assure me that all this is not true and I really am wonderful. Bless you for your goodness. I truly appreciate you. But you don't have to do that. I am posting this blog so I can put my feelings down somewhere. Here is a convenient place for that. Actually, I'm kind of hoping you find it much too boring to bother with. So don't feel obligated in any way. It's quite personal, this one. I just needed to get it out and put down someplace. If you have read this far, thanks for listening. And the Librarything really is a great discovery if you want to line your books up and see what you've got. It's really fun.