Over the past couple of days, I’ve made a major move here at our home in LA. I have taken on the task of boxing up many of my books that were in one spot and moving them into a little office space right off of Ray and my bedroom. I have sorted the books into categories: poetry, short story, essay, fiction, non-fiction, spiritual, children’s literature, and reference and have placed them in bookcases and on the floor under my desk.
I have also placed at eye level many of the books that over the years have been special to me. These include my writing mentor John Rechy’s novels and non-fiction books, along with those by Joan Didion, Toni Morrison, John Steinbeck, Wallace Stegner, Zora Neal Hurston, Larry McMurtry, P.D. James, Virginia Woolf, Eudora Welty, and on and on and on.
Just walking by these books makes me feel as if the authors are smiling at me, and their stories are wrapping their arms around me. I am very grateful for this tiny space that is overflowing with energy as well as comfort.
All of my writing books are downstairs in their own special spot. I have run out of room up here for them, but I know where they are and they, too, bring me great comfort.