Bookshelf
I finally got around to unpacking all of my books, and surprisingly they actually fit on my available bookshelves! I did a ruthless purge before I moved, sold three boxes or so of books, so I guess I'm used to thinking I have more of them than I actually do!
Anyhow, for a wannabe librarian I'm not excessively organized about my books. I actually group them by size (where will they fit?) and loosely by genre, but really it's by emotional impressions and relational reasons in my head. I'm an intuitive book owner, and my system is not exact.
So, I sat down to my computer after finishing up, and looked over at the bookshelf by my desk. The bookshelf itself was my grandmother's, and it's my favorite one (I even love it more than I love my bookshelf-bed). So all my favorite books or genres of one kind or another are on here, as well as most of my nonfiction and theory because hey, you never know when you'll want to consult Simians, Cyborgs and Women or Sister Outsider. (ETA: And actually, I swear to god, not one week after posting this I actually DID have a conversation with a friend in which I leaned over and looked at Haraway. Trufax, I am not joking.) Also the books I need for school are here so they're handy when I go to do my assignments.
Anyhow, I realized that my bookshelf is predominately full of female authors. I had a hunch about that, and leaned over and counted them--out of 127 books, only about 20 are by men, and about half of those are Chip Delany. A handful are by trans people. HM. Of course, I have tons more books elsewhere in the house that are by white straight men, don't worry.
It feels good to have all the books back in my life!
I had an angsty wallow last night about writing anxiety. I've been having a lot of anxiety about writing of all kinds lately--homework assignments to emails to blog posts to fiction to feedbacking to book reviews to comments to tweets, all of it. I am trying to be compassionate to myself, but I'm really struggling with that because I don't think I'm as good a writer as I want to be, and so much of my personal and professional interests are tightly bound up in writing and reading, so much so that I think writing is an integral aspect of my identity. If I can't see myself as a writer, what am I? These are the sort of existential questions that keep me up until 2am flicking mournfully through my WIP folder.
In other news, hey, did you know that women and gays are apparently ruining Sci Fi for the rest of us them? Seriously, these dudes are so privileged it goes beyond offensive right into hilarious.