I’m in the process of downsizing, moving to a much smaller & as yet undetermined location. One of the painful aspects of that is figuring out what to do with all my beloved books — the ones I’ve read and the ones I’ve written. In fact, I just returned from a quick trip to my neighborhood middle school, where I donated a bunch of books for classroom libraries.
Anyone who has ever moved, knows that it comes with a degree of navel gazing. You come across an old photo album and time stands still. Or, no, time goes in reverse. You lose an hour, happily. Part of that process, for me, has been trying to get a copy of each of my books, across 40 years, packed up for safe keeping. This way my children can throw them in the Dumpster at a later date. Because I sure can’t do it.
So, yes, I’ve pulled out all my books over the years. Spread them out on the floor. And look at this:
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If you are lucky in this business, some of your books get translated into different languages, almost by pure magic. While this is not a complete record, here are some of those titles: Jigsaw Jones in Arabic, German, Spanish; Scary Tales and The Fall in Japanese; Bystander in Greek; Before You Go in German; and Six Innings in Korean. Each one leaves me agog.
How cool is that? Which is another way of saying: How lucky am I?
Very, I realize. Very lucky indeed.
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