I decided that I should probably catalogue my library this weekend. I’ve been looking at software to do so for a while, and I finally settled on Collectorz–it starts out cheap and does everything I want. I looked at Bookpedia as well, but some of the features weren’t quite what I wanted. I may change my mind later, which means an export hassle, but oh well. I knew I didn’t want Shelfari or LibraryThing, because I want the option to not upload things to a cloud. (Also, because Shelfari is Amazon and Librarything, well, if things go as they have been that might be Amazon too after a while. So, no.)
The learning curve for Collectorz wasn’t bad, and I got all the books in my office catalogued yesterday. (All 400 of them. God.) That takes care of my bookshelf of “favourites”–books I want in the same room with me while I’m working–and reference, which includes forensic pathology, mythology, vampires, annotated classics, Jack the Ripper and Victoriana, various dictionaries, thesauri, grammar books, and the like, Loompanics/Paladin Press books, and assorted stuff like foreign language dictionaries, a few books my therapist recommended, some medical textbooks, encyclopedias of Russian prison tattoos…it was an easy enough undertaking. Time-consuming, especially since a lot of my editions are older and don’t have barcode ISBNs.
What’s left over to catalog is the upstairs and downstairs libraries: upstairs there’s Murakami, Nabokov, Heyer, Chomsky, Classical Antiquity and poetry, cookbooks, some social justice, literary criticism and analysis, and those stacks on the coffee table; downstairs there’s general fiction, WWII (Eastern Front and general), other military history, general nonfiction, biography, Latin, the occult section and my crammed-full bookcase of Tanith Lee. (Yes, just Lee, a whole bookcase of her. She’s my favourite author.) And, of course, the TBR bookcase.
I’m a little frightened of what the actual total of physical books will be. I don’t read ebooks–for one thing, I spend my working time on a screen, so when I try to read an ebook I feel like I should be editing or something. If I like something I try like hell to get a physical copy, and having a best friend who runs a bookstore probably helps. It’s almost scary to think I purged my collection twice after the divorce. I’ve lost a lot of books over the years–for one thing, during my childhood they were always liable to be torn up or taken away as “punishment”–and when I moved I thought I just took the bare essentials.
Yeah, 150 boxes of them. *headdesk* This is why I’m never moving again.
Of course, there are a few things I can’t or won’t input–some antiques, and maybe my Scarlet Imprint collection. (I haven’t decided about the latter.) I also am superstitiously not putting in any of my author’s copies. Though it might be nice to know how many I have and list those online as signed copies; that’s a project for another year, though.
This is probably the clearest sign that I’ve settled and won’t be called upon to move again. I kept the catalogue in my head for many years, and God help me if I couldn’t find a particular book. I sometimes couldn’t rest until I’d found what I wanted. Thankfully my ex didn’t prank me by moving things around. I probably would have combusted from sheer irritation. SMAUG KNOWS WHERE EVERYTHING IN HER HOARD IS, DAMMIT.
Anyway, that’s what I’ll be doing in between finishing Gallow and revising the third fairytale YA, not to mention prepping for the fourth Bannon & Clare. Idle hands, and all that.