For fellow bibliophiles, you must all understand my pain when I inform you for a very long time now I have been without a bookcase. I will spare you the details, but needless to say, it has been a time of unrest. My reading life was missing something. I’m not often a very organized person, but my books…my books I take very seriously. I have often used book organization as a therapeutic task. Think Rob Gordon ala Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity (Jon Cusack’s character for those who haven’t read it). Anyway books to me are like records to Rob. I compose different lists in my head. I choose a book based not on what I like but on what I need at that time…and that is never an easy task. There is no algorithm to finding the right book. But a bookcase that is organized the right way, sure does help. Putting together that book shelf was preparation for a ritual still steeped in my former wanderlust days of moving places each year. Finally, as I placed the last sorted stack of paperbacks onto the shelf, I felt a little more whole, a puzzle piece fitting firmly into the empty space that was once there.