There is only one tenet of book organization that I feel truly strongly about—well, beyond the fact that you should organize your books in whatever way makes the most sense for you. I cannot, absolutely cannot, shelve unread books with the ones I’ve finished.
There are upsides and downsides to this system. On the upside, I can see all the books available to me at any given moment. The unread books shelf (shelves, bookcase, let’s not split hairs here) is easy to peruse: At breakfast, I sit over my oatmeal and consider what I want to read next.
On the downside… I can see all the unread books looming in the corner at all times.
It’s a very specific sort of feeling.
At present, a Reddit thread about how many books people have in their TBR stack has nearly 400 replies. The answers range from “three or four” to the alarming relatable “I don’t think counting them would be good for my anxiety.” I am absolutely not counting. I am not even counting how many books have joined the party since I wondered, over a year ago, if it was possible to have too many unread books.
It’s a thing we readers often think about, though sometimes it’s framed in other ways: Will I have enough to read? What do I want to read next? What’s new that I’m excited about? What’s that book about? How did it end up in my shopping cart or my bookstore pile? Whoops!
I am thinking about it again because I keep thinking about TBR bankruptcy. When I sit and look at the unreads, I want to read all of them. All at once. I want to be Tilda Swinton in Only Lovers Left Alive, turning the pages and scanning the words at impossible, vampiric speed. It’s those moments when I understand the people who don’t cringe at the overuse of the word “consume.” Generally speaking, I feel quite strongly that we don’t consume books; we read them. But when I think about how many books there are and how few hours I really have to read them, I want to just shoot them straight into my brain. To eat them and understand their contents, like one of Sunyi Dean’s book eaters. Eating is faster than reading. If that’s what it takes, let me consume them all.
When you are pleasantly overwhelmed by choice, by decision fatigue, there are all kinds of games to play in your mind. One of my favorite things to consider is turning all the unread books spine-out, in an attempt to forget what’s there and surprise myself later. Maybe I just need to touch them all, to rearrange, to pull every single book off the shelf, dust them, restack them, load the sturdy bookcase up again. Maybe that’s what it takes to remember why each book is on the shelf, what I was thinking when I bought it, what role I want it to play in my mental library. The intriguing book about algae that came when I ordered a mystery trio from Print: A Bookstore. The books about cold and snow and feral girls that one specific friend always talks about, that I always want to read immediately. The nonfiction books about topics that make me mad (University of Nike, Work Won’t Love You Back) and the ones close to my heart (Girly Drinks, The Essential Ellen Willis). The books I preordered, absolutely certain I would read them the minute I arrived, still collecting dust.
The thing about TBR anxiety is that it’s not really about books. There’s a reason it perks up its little head when the days get shorter and the lure of a fire and a warm chair get stronger—when the year, despite all the weirdness of time, seems to be coming to a close, a meaningful darkness inching in. Anxiety about not being able to read all the books is anxiety about time. About choices, and lifespans, and how we spend our days; about stories that carry us and stories that make us angry and stories that feel like they were meant to slip into our minds, clever and wise and full of feelings it can sometimes be hard to really feel, these days.
Sometimes, people do the math. If I have X number of years left to live, based on the average lifespan of a human in my region of the world, and it takes me Y hours to read an average book, how many books do I have left?
How can you want to know?
Books aren’t the measure of a life. But when you’re a reader, you spend a lot of time with them. Even when I was a tiny, shy elementary school student, I wanted to be where the books were. (In the library.) The world was so much bigger than I could even begin to comprehend; I couldn’t know all the places I would want to go, things I’d want to do, people to meet, ideas to learn. But I knew that I could find far more things in books than I could in the small sphere of my world.
When you keep reading, the world keeps getting bigger.
Buy the Book
Africa Risen
When you keep buying books, or even just making lists of books, or going to bookstores, or patronizing your local library, or borrowing books from friends, or obtaining books in any number of delightful and varied fashions, the possibilities are endless.
There are, of course, always more books. To read is to change, and the idea of TBR bankruptcy—of whatever shape—is, at heart, an admission of change. An acceptance that the books purchased some time ago, whether months or years or longer still, might not still be the books you want to read. It’s okay to let those go—or maybe just to turn them to the wall for a while, until you forget they’re there and they seem fresh again. You really never know what you’ll want back. (I still regret a box of nonfiction books I left behind in a move 20 years ago. Still! That box, a pair of Fluevogs that would never break in, and a pair of well-worn Rollerblades. I want them all back.)
On the other hand, though, those unread books, the ones that’ve been with you through moves and changes and dry reading spells and flirtations with other genres—they take on a different sort of sheen. It feels different to read a book I’ve meant to get around to for ages than it does to read one that I’ve just picked up, shiny and new and glossy. There is no practical reason for this, any more than there’s any practical reason why some weeks I read three books and some I only get 20 pages into one. Unread books aren’t technically like old hoodies with the sleeves worn thin and the strings long-lost, but they can feel like it. Comforting, sort of, like they were just waiting for you to drop by.
For the rest of this year, I’m only going to read books I already have. Maybe that means Babel, which is still very new; maybe it means finishing The Wicked + the Divine; maybe it’s finally finishing Embassytown or The Parable of the Sower. And maybe it means picking up a few books I once thought I was going to love, dusting them off, and letting them go.
Molly Templeton lives and writes in Oregon, and spends as much time as possible in the woods. Sometimes she talks about books on Twitter.
At the age of 54, I know that I already have books on my TBR shelf / in the TBR collection of my Kindle app, which I am going to die without having read. I don’t know for sure which ones. It’s a melancholy feeling.
Mount Tsundoku is an impressive place…
My TBR section (one whole wall of my house floor to ceiling :O ) is one I hope I could get through but what adds to my anxiety is the rereads that I just can’t live without. So little time.
But how could you not tell us the titles of the books about “cold and snow and feral girls” ?
The last time I counted I had somewhere well above 500 books in my TBR stacks (do people actually shelve unread books with read books? Savages) and it has grown in the meantime.
David Goldfarb, I am also 54, and will never complete my reading either, but I have long taken comfort in this quote,
“Even when reading is impossible, the presence of books acquired produces such an ecstasy that the buying of more books than one can read is nothing less than the soul reaching towards infinity.” – A. Edward Newton, author, publisher, and collector of 10,000 books.
@@.-@ – A fair question! Some of the books I have ordered (but not yet read) that are roughly in that vein include Split Tooth by Tanya Tagaq; The Idea of North by Peter Davidson; Folk by Zoe Gilbert; Salt Slow by Julia Armfield; The Snow Collectors by Tina May Hall; and probably more than I can neither remember nor see on my shelf right now. Many (but not all) of these were recommended by Sarah McCarry on Twitter (she has a recommendation thread but it broke at one point; you can work backwards from here).
But also if you need cold and snow and feral girls and are up for a whole series, Kristin Cashore’s recent Graceling Realm novel Seasparrow more than delivers.
Ohhh. A book about book eaters – that one is going on my ‘want to read’ list, ha.
I honestly don’t think I have this anxiety. I can only guess at the number of books I haven’t read but do possess. I just love having them around, and having a lot of choice when picking my next book. Ok, fine. As Im typing this, Im looking at my ‘might read soon’ storage below the salon table. There are 40-50 books there, all previously unread.
I can get kinda cranky when I feel I should read a book but I don’t – and then I do read it, love it, and berate myself for not reading it sooner. Then again: I also hate kicking or rushing myself through a good book when I don’t have the brain space to appreciate it. You can only read it for the first time once…
When you keep reading, the world keeps getting bigger. Oh yes — or at least for most of us; the Puppy attitude of wanting more of their childhood favorites without any of these modern concerns doesn’t strike me as enlarging, which is why I’ll occasionally try a well-recommended book even if my reaction to a review can be summed up as “ick!”
Moving can be an effective version of a crash diet; I donated about 2/3 of my collection, read and unread, in order to fit into a place with no basement or attic. I can’t claim unbounded merit for this because a lot of the unreads had descended from “This looks interesting and I’m already going to need a box to get them all home” through stages to “Why did I ever get this?”. (Being a geek, I long ago started writing in the date I got each book, so I could look at them and realize which ones I had kept passing over when I was looking for something to read.) But I’ve already realized I gave away at least one book that I wanted to consult….
“I cannot, absolutely cannot, shelve unread books with the ones I’ve finished.”
Of course not. I did not know that this was even an option.
Am I the only one who DOES shelve unread books with the ones I’ve read? They go into the space where I would look when I want to read a book by that author or of that type or on that subject.. It works for me anyway.
@10. Aelfrida: I also shelve my unread books with the read books. I started doing that when I needed to figure out how much space I had for books and in an attempt not to buy so many (because space was limited). Doesn’t really work for the not-buying thing, but at least I know what I have for each category and what is available to read/re-read.
Last time I estimated the number of unread books I had it was almost 500.
I try not to think about it. It leads to a certain type of melancholy, one which can only be relieved by buying more books.
@10 Aelfrida:
Nope, you’re not :)
My books mostly live in the attic. Read and unread happily share shelves and cases there. And tops of shelves. And tops of rows. And…point being, the only reason no already read books are downstairs now is I’m not planning on a re-read soon.
I totally relate to “want[ing] to be where the books were”.
Sorry to Linda @5, Molly the OP, et al. but I’m definitely one of the savages who shelves unread books with those I’ve already read. My TBR stack becomes far too unwieldy otherwise; plus, I enjoy having them visually integrated into my personal library — there’s a physical or perhaps just metaphysical comfort in doing so beyond the aesthetic. The only downside to me is that I can’t answer in the affirmative when somebody asks whether I’ve actually read all of them.
I am guilty of laying new books on top of the ones properly shelved in the vicinity of where they’ll get placed and leaving them prone there for too long if slotting them in means shifting a lot of stuff around, but they don’t have their own TBR section. For the record, I shelve alphabetically by author for most books and, separated out, by feature or character when it comes to graphic novels/albums with multiple creative hands and nonfiction on specific media properties.
Putting unread books in my collection!!! Sorry my head just hurts thinking about it.
After a successful road trip to a number of the largest second hand books shops in the UK my TBR pile is over 70 books now. However at the rate I read (2-4 a week) and with Xmas coming up that should last until the New Year I hope, then I can buy again.
One rule I do have is once the TBR reaches this level after an expedition is that no new ones are added. I can be very cruel to myself sometimes but its the only way to keep this under control.
“unread books shelf”
Oh, if it were only a shelf of unread books. I’ve moved beyond the shelf, stack, and pile of unread books. I categorize it as a mountain which I will need a team of sherpas to help me summit. The pandemic years left me with 1) income I wasn’t spending on commuting and 2) too many online sources about books. What’s interesting is the geologic movement of unread books. Books from the middle sedimentary layers often capture my interest and move to the top of the stack-mountain (which requires dangerous mining and delving). Of course, before I get to them new layers of new books are added on top. I’m going as fast as I can but the conspiracy of writers to make money (to keep eating, I suppose) by producing books keeps outpacing me. I guess there are worse problems to have.
“I wondered, over a year ago, if it was possible to have too many unread books.”
If this is a poll I’m voting yes, emphatically. Particularly the physical ones. Ebooks are less stressful, I find. In particular, they don’t disturb my spouse.
Anyway at a certain age you have to start thinking about disposing of your property before it becomes a burden on your heirs. (Don’t buy a parrot, for example.) Having acted as executor for an estate with a modest art collection, and vague directions for its disposal, I take this somewhat seriously. Of course, procrastination will win out in the end.
On the other hand, early purchases help authors. There’s something to be said for buying books you’d like to read but don’t expect to …
My TBR collection on my kindle is statistically certain to outlive me, c’est la vie.
Readers and gardeners have much in common, you cannot have too many books or plants, but sometimes the collection needs judicious pruning. I’ve had two necessary huge (and painful) book downsizings over the years, and now try to quickly donate those I’ve bought and read, unless they are particularly special.
I started a spreadsheet early this year of books I want to read, those I have read and those I own of both categories. Those recommended book threads on Tw*tter usually give me much inspiration, so I have a convenient place to save them, and the spreadsheet works so much better than the Amazon wish list I used to use. My want to read list is currently just over 100 books, some of which I own and many of which I will borrow from the library in either hard copy or ebook. I also use the spreadsheet to note award noms or winners, which was helpful when I was reading the Hugo and Nebula noms this year.
For those of you who do borrow, I recommend the Library extension, which works on Amazon and I think Goodreads to let you know if the book is available from the list of libraries you have supplied, and then takes you to the site to check it out or place a hold. Makes borrowing that much easier, and helps keep the pile of books a bit more under control!
I basically just recreated the county library in my house :p
between all the books, read and unread and all the horded craft supplies
i’m ready. Ready for what? absolutely no clue, but i’ve GOT THEM!
59-1/2 and literally no idea how many to-be-reads in the house but i’m sure it’s well south of 1,500 or so : )
I’m 54 too. Really hoping that we get to Singularity at some point in the next decade or two so that we can to read (or have “read”) all the books there are (or in a Borgesian twist, ever could be – I am sure there’s a story or a novel in that). As for the number of unread books I have, no idea, certainly over a thousand on Kindle, some multiple of that in physical space. I don’t have any shelves at the moment, but when I did I shelved all books by subject (when I had enough shelves that they didn’t just stuck where there was space for them to go). It’s a library. I don’t have to have read everything. Sadly, most of my books are in storage in London, some in Preston and only a few here in Seattle, left over from last time or that I have acquired since June. I really do need to get to Ikea…
Oh the bliss. There are other people out there who are greedy for books.
There are about 10,000 in my Calibre with more being added every day. I’m in my 70s. Maybe if I don’t pause for food or sleep…?
There’s a thing on FB where people promise to finish their TBR stack on their 392nd birthday. And then go buy more books.
>For the rest of this year, I’m only going to read books I already have.
Good luck with that :-) This has been my plan for decades now, but people keep writing more great books that I just have to buy.
Umberto Eco’s belief of the unread books in one’s library being the most valuable resurfaces in the blogosphere with some regularity. Of course in the most practical sense that applies largely to nonfiction, reference yet to be consulted or more generally information and ideas yet to be absorbed, but I think it holds true for exposure to concepts, styles, etc. in fiction as well. Plus as readers we likely all know someone, even if it’s not ourself, who intentionally holds off on finishing a certain author’s entire oeuvre for the anticipation.
I used to devoutly separate my read and unread bookshelves, and gods help me should the two ever cross. But I finally created a shelf that I wanted to merge as soon as I brought in a new book that fit: I set up a shelf in chronological order for winners of the Hugo, Nebula, and Aurora awards, mostly first editions, collection a work in progress, but I wanted them all together. I’m not sure that shelf will remain in place, since it messes with a display of books-by-author by moving some of their best work elsewhere, which I don’t like. If only I had unlimited space, I would just have duplicates so I could have an award winners shelf and a author shelf with a full set on each! But that would be bananas – right?
My TBR probably takes up two full bookshelves at around 400-500 physical books. I don’t have an exact number, but it’s a lot and I brought in a TON of new stuff this year. My partner gifted me an “I have no shelf control” bookmark a few months ago, which probably is not a new joke to many of you, but I enjoyed it and found it more than apt.
I have uncounted books that I own and intend to read. This does not make me anxious, knowing that I may never read all of my books. To me, collecting a book and reading it are two different pursuits. While I enjoy them both immensely, I am not required to read every book I collect. The criteria I use to buy a book may veer more into the ‘read right now’ lane or more into the ‘complete a series I like’ lane, depending on the book.
For many years I shared a book collection with my father to which we would both contribute. The books I bought and read are shelved with books he bought and I didn’t read. Since his passing, I do not shelve any books I have not read, but leave them to pile up in boxes and bedsides
I do have one quirk about my TBR piles that I attribute to years as a union shop steward. I feel guilty when I read a book I bought after ones bought prior to it. It’s a seniority thing.
I grew up in an era when it was still possible to keep up with all of the important works in the field, so a certain amount of anxiety about not having something to read next wasn’t entirely irrational. That state of affairs had ended by the time I was an adult, but the desire to have a large number of books “on deck” as insurance never went away.
I would estimate around 500 unread physical books that I’ve bought and have on shelves upstairs. Books that I’ve read go into the archive in the basement. I absolutely agree that read and unread books should NOT be mixed. Ever. I have about 15,000 read books in my basement. That is not a typo, given that I’m in my 70s and have never gotten rid of a book that I’ve read. There is always the feeling that I might want to “come back to it” one day (how silly).
My library system website also allows me to maintain a list of books that I want to check out, and there are about another 400 titles on that. Then, although I resisted ereading for many years, my niece recently bought a top of the line Kindle for me, and I’ve already bought and added another hundred or so to that. So, my total is around 1,000. Not that many, compared to some of you.
I pile my TBRs next to my chair so I will feel the guilt I deserve for having waited until old age to read for eternity.