From My Shelves to Madeline’s New Chapter

Humpday means Scrabble – yay! Everybody is still out of town; we’ll have to wait and see if there is anyone to play with.

I was busy yesterday sorting through things, mostly books. Dusting them, then making piles, in alphabetical order. Then, stacking repeat offenders – the piles of David Baldacci, Lee Child, Harlen Coben next to the rest of the Bs and Cs. The non-novels: an atlas, dictionaries in two languages, cookbooks (how the hell did I end up with those?), travel books (again, why?), poetry and art books. I do not want anything reminding me of what I cannot do, like paint and have my canvas rival Rembrandt. I have a paperback on how to make Japanese clothes. No idea wherethehell that one came from, and, believe me, I have never once made the effort.

Others I remember, not so much for the content as for how the books moved me. Colum McCann, from Ireland, broke my heart a million times.

Then there are writers like James Patterson, who was so good and distinctive when he first started, but now churns out best-selling books co-written with whoever he chooses to team up with, and his work becomes increasingly less appealing and harder to read, so I haven’t bothered in years. BUT, James Patterson also wrote a small book that I will never part with. I read it, then reread it immediately, continuously checking the back cover to believe that he could write something so profoundly beautiful.

So, I spent yesterday reminiscing on various reads. I found a book that belonged to my dad. He had the terrible habit of writing his name in pen on every book he bought. I remember scolding him decades ago; clearly he ignored me. I may reread this one, and I am keeping it, only because it’s falling apart.

Most of the 288 books are in good shape. Good enough to put on shelves in a brand-new used English-language bookstore that will be opening soon in 5 de diciembre, Colombia 1377.

My cherished friend, colleague, past editor for eight years, published author, and now real estate agent and bookstore/cafe owner times two, Madeline Milne, is going to take all these books for her Living Room Book Store annex that I mentioned in the last paragraph.

The new store will succeed beautifully – it is what Madeline does. She will create another coveted space that is comfortably welcoming to all. She will serve up curated Mexican coffee, fab desserts, and light lunches. She will likely throw cultural events at her new storefront as she does from time to time at the Marina.

And there is Cora, short for Corazon, Madeline’s adorable dog, who will continue to make herself known at the new locale whenever Mads visits.

Books I will never part with are the ones written by my friends, including Sandra Bradley, Sandra Cesca, Pat Henry, and Sid Goodman. A couple of them I edited.

Have a wonderful day. Read a book and we’ll catch you back here in the morning.