Category Archives: books

books, career

Books to the Dumpster

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No, not my books, but some CEI books. We will be re-locating to a new building the end of this month, and I volunteered to take responsibility for the library. Before I can back it up I need to delete duplicate and out-dated materials. Before I can know what materials are duplicate and outdated I need to organize it, for materials are scattered due to a faulty systems of original organization and to ten or so years of neglect. Before I can organize it I need to reorganize it to correct the original faults.

Last week I spent parts of four days on it, and managed to pull all the manufacturer’s catalogs and brochures together and alphabetize them. I say “all” because I’m still finding some hiding in places. The shelves the catalogs were on did not have enough space for them all, so I had to move them but first had to move some things to make room for them. Then I misjudged the extra space I’d need by about 40 percent. Hence I moved the catalogs beginning with “A” about five times. Last week I also mostly finished pulling all the Federal regulations together and the consensus standards.

Today I worked on State and local regulations and standards. These are the most difficult of all, for it was with these that the original filing system was faulty, IMHO. I won’t go into how it was faulty, but it was. I’m probably only a little more than halfway through this task, even though I worked seven hours on it today. I should finish tomorrow and get on to reference materials and project documents.

But this post was about discarding books. Even though I’m not ready to discard duplicates and out-dateds (coined a word), I’m still discarding things. Means’ construction cost data from 1999 is kind of meaningless now, so I’m tossing those in a barrel. Broken notebooks don’t make sense to keep, so I’m taking them apart, recycling what I can, and discarding what I can’t. A few other things are obviously unsuitable for keeping, so those are going. The discard barrel is close to full.

At noon today, instead of walking I decided to carry the 2004 Thomas Registers to the dumpster. I don’t know the distant equivalent. It took me four trips from library to dumpster, with about as many books as it was possible to carry. At the end I felt that I’d had an adequate workout. Even though these books are outdated (we have 2008 and 2009 ones), I was sad to see them in a common morgue with the garbage from the break room and the pencil sharpener dumpings from individual trash baskets. These are books, and deserve a better fate than a common morgue followed by a common grave in a dry-bed landfill, to sit there for a hundred years barely decomposing due to lack of moisture.

But we can’t keep everything. I’m almost thinking it’s foolhardy to even have a library, in this digital age. Surely we can do better than to kill trees for things that become outdated in a year or two. Oh, well, tomorrow I’ll begin carrying the barrel contents to the dumpster, before I begin crying over them. At least I get to keep all the textbooks.

books, reading

Book Addiction

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Last night we moved books. First we took them out of the bookcases. Then we moved the bookcases. Then we moved other bookcases into the spots where the first bookcases were. Then we put the books back on the shelves.

Well, the whole process is not yet done. We did get all the bookcases in their new places. One short one was replaced with a tall one next to another tall one, except those two didn’t match, and one of them (the one already in place) matched two or three on the other side of the room, and another bookcase in a semi-used state in a spare bedroom matched the tall one replacing the short one. Are you with me so far?

First, the short one went on a wall where there was no bookcase, under the high school graduation pictures of the kids. The same books went back in that one in the new location. Then I took the encyclopedias off their shelf and set that bookshelf to the side, for two other shelves had to be moved four inches first to increase some space for the encyclopedias. The tall one being moved to its two (or three) matching brothers, where the encyclopedias had been, went next, but those books were not necessarily going back on to it, so they had to stay in piles for a while. That all happened Monday evening, along with vacuuming vacated places and spraying for bugs.

Then yesterday evening I moved the unused one from the garage to where the short one had been, went to writers guild, came back from writers guild when no one else showed, moved (with Lynda’s help) the other matching tall one. We then unloaded two other tall ones and moved them four inches. Except that proved to be a little too much and so we moved them back one inch. Then the encyclopedia case went in its new home, right by the door into the Dungeon (as we fondly call our walk-out basement where all this was taking place).

Then the slow process of moving books began in earnest. Christian fiction, alphabetical by other first, then Biblical fiction also alpha by author, then secular fiction alpha by author and collating two groups, then non-fiction (Christian and secular mixed), except how to organize the non-fiction? Alpha by author wouldn’t work. It has to be topical. I worked on that some, until it was after 10:00 PM and time to wind down for the evening. The few remaining piles on the floor, and whatever the final look of the non-fiction will be, can wait for tomorrow.

All of which says: I have an addiction to books. It’s very difficult to pass any up at a sale. At least, to pass up any I’m truly interested in. The list of books I blogged about a couple of days ago had all come from used book sales over a month’s time. That’s too many books to be adding to an already over-stuffed collection. So as of now I am swearing off used book stores, thrift stores, garage sales, and even new book stores. The library? I’ll still go there, but only at times when that little used book store in the entryway is closed.

Now I have to read them, all 4,000 of them (my best estimate). It might take a while, especially with finding a couple of articles in every book. More on that tomorrow–if I’m not too busy shelving books.

books

Book Signing

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No, it’s not mine. One would have to have a book published to have a book signing, and I haven’t.

I went to Wal-Mart on Monday, after work, to pick up some file folders for my writing filing. The parking lot was more full than I would have expected at a little after 6 PM. Actually, traffic was awful, in every direction. All the roads I either drove on or crossed to get from the office to Wal-Mart were jammed in each direction. And the gas pumps at Murphy Oil outside the Supercenter were jammed as well, despite the fact that gas had gone up from $1.419 to $1.559. Perhaps many feared additional increases. But I prate.

Inside Wal-Mart, I encountered a good sized crowd. I saw a line of people in the main aisle between clothing and office supplies, kitchen stuff, etc. The line looked like one of those special lines they have the day after Christmas, for everyone to return the things they received but didn’t want. But then I remembered this wasn’t after Christmas but after Thanksgiving. And then I noticed everyone had one or two books in their hands. When I walked by the line I could see the books were all Growing Up Country. I diverted to the head of the line and saw this was written by Charlie Daniels, of the country singing group Alabama, and that Mr. Daniels was to sign books from 6 PM to 8 PM. I checked the time: 6:15 PM, and the signer’s chair was empty. Mr. Daniels was obviously running late. How long before the hundred or so people in line became irate?

Book signings are something I have not daydreamed, or even dreamed, about. If I am ever published, book signings will obvious come into my life. Most authors describe them as boring times, more waiting for people to come by the table than actual signing. Two hours for a handful of books. Mr. Daniels’ celebrity status made things different for him. And this explains why publishers will publish books by celebrities. I guess Daniels is actually more of an editor of this book than a writer, for he has gathered together “a slight collection of essays from 59 self-described ‘country folk'”. Probably he has writing of his own sprinkled through the book.

More power to Charlie Daniels, I say. People want to hear from celebrities; they buy their books; publishers oblige. It’s the system.

Bible study, books, memories, miscellaneous, Writing

Sidelines Syndrome

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I first encountered Sidelines Syndrome when I was in junior high, a skinny lad who loved both academics and sports but who excelled only at the former and struggled with the latter. I didn’t know what to call it then.

I experienced it mainly on Sundays, in the fall, and it continued strongly all the way through high school. We went to mass at 9:00 AM, and got home around 10:30 AM or a little later. Cereal and toast were consumed, Dad fell asleep either on the dining room floor or in his bedroom, and it was time to read, do homework, or watch whatever pre-game football shows they had on in the 1960s. Eventually the game itself would start. How great it was to watch the New York football Giants, with Y.A. Tittle and later Fran Tarkenton at quarterback, Homer Jones at flanker, and…others whose names I can’t remember. I think Frank Gifford may have already retired. But I prate.

However, by the end of the first quarter, I was tired of watching and wanted to be doing. So I turned off the television, went outside, and started playing basketball alone. Not sure what my younger brother was doing; perhaps he sometimes joined me in the wide part of the driveway, next to the detached, two-car garage, where Dad had put up the hoop and backboard. Within a half-hour, certainly before the end of the first half, my neighbor Bobby, same grade as me, would come out and we’d have a friendly competition. An hour later and we were throwing the football in the street. Other neighborhood kids would join us, and we started a pick-up game in the street. The “field” stretched three telephone poles, the middle pole being the first down. It was always Bobby and me against all the others, all much younger than us. Bobby was Fran Tarkenton and I was Homer Jones. The ten or fifteen kids we played against didn’t stand a chance. But again I prate.

Sidelines Syndrome, as I define it now, is the physical or psychological reaction of body, soul, and spirit to being on the sidelines rather than being in the game. As teenagers, SS caused us to have an overwhelming urge of needing to be in the game, not watching others play the game on television even if they were quantum leaps ahead of us in skill and ability. We had to be out playing, not watching. I’ve noticed that SS has the exact opposite effect on us as we age. Instead of wanting to be in the game, we are glad to be on the sidelines; it lulls us to complacency, tiredness, and an overwhelming desire to sleep through half the game. At least it does me.

Last night, I experienced my first case of teenager SS in years. After working late, I went to Barnes & Noble to read, relax, research, and drink that large house blend that I mentioned in yesterday’s post. I began reading Noah Lukeman’s The First Five Pages. I read about ten pages, then felt an overwhelming urge to be writing instead of reading about writing. I couldn’t concentrate. So I put that down and began reading in The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing Poetry. I managed to research one minor topic, then SS interrupted the neurotransmitters and I had to lay it aside. Next was a book about fifty skills a writer should have, or something like that. I couldn’t get past the table of contents. The same was true with “Poets and Writers” and “Writers Journal” magazines. Concentration was impossible. I had to be writing.

So I went home, fixed dinner, went to my reading chair, and began planning out what I think will be my next book, a Bible study, and doing some research on it. SS was satisfied, my brain fully engaged, and productive words and concepts flowed. As the evening progressed and way led on to way, I quit about 1:15 AM, a blog post made and three sell-sheets drafted for three future books. I was satisfied; my brain was satisfied, a teen-age type attack of SS fully suppressed, and a 5:55 AM alarm setting turned on. Hey, maybe I’m getting younger!

Don’t bother to look up Sidelines Syndrome in a medical book, or Google it, or check it in Wikipedia. It doesn’t exist as a clinically defined medical or psychological phenomenon. I assure you it exists, however, and needs to be dealt with in the right way. Maybe this post will spur those professions to get off their duffs and figure this out—quickly. I can’t take many more nights of less than five hours sleep.