For the longest time I’ve admired those ladder bookcases, you know the ones with the slanted front, with shelves that get narrower as they go up. The bigger ones look like an A-frame sliced in half, at least from the side.
With every new novel in progress, I expand my permanent research library by at least a dozen books. Usually quite a few more (the current WIP can claim 26 active titles in use, though a few of those were already in my collection).
Not long after I began accumulating the new book stash earlier in the year, it became clear I needed to find them a home. Despite one full height bookcase, a smaller 3-shelf case, half the cupboard space in my desk, and a row of “currently in use books” on the sideboard beside my desk, my office space had become cluttered with ever-rotating piles of homeless books, like so:
But then, O Frabjous Day, the ladder bookcase I ordered finally arrived. In a box. With A Lot of Assembly Required.
Don’t let the writing on the box fool you. I took one look at the bag of hardware that would be involved and, hardware assembly not being my thing, put it down quick like.
Next morning I awoke to find the bookcase faerie had come to visit. As if by magic, my bookcase was assembled and waiting to be filled with all the books waiting to be shelved.
O Yet More Frabjous Day! Here it is in all its glory:
|As you can see, there’s room to expand on these shelves. I love room to expand!|
|I LIKE having that empty corner filled. We used to have a dog crate there. Dog decided he didn’t want his own room.|
Not only does it fill that empty corner and hide a bunch of unsightly wires that keep me connected to the outside world, now my books have some breathing space (and room to expand, as books inevitably do in this writing cave), and I am feeling like a very blessed writer indeed.
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