I am soon starting my new job as a tax preparer, and the twelve inches of snow that prevented me from going to my first day of training for the job today, remind me that when my family and I get snow here in the country, we sometimes lose power too. So I'm writing while I can.
The snow also reminds me of the two conflicting ideologies I have: being a minimalist, who also wants to prepare for hard times that may come.
So when it comes to books, I have to figure out a balance between the urge to get rid of almost everything, and the urge to hoard everything. I love books, and if we lose power for a long period of time, paper books are all I have. So there's the urge to collect as many paper books as I cheaply can, in the hope that some of them are good, and in case I don't have any other means of entertainment left.
Older used books, if you know the right places to look, are very cheap, in general. I miss the library book sales half the time (which irritates me to no end that they can't advertise the sales better). But even without them, I recently managed to find dozens of science-fiction novellas from the 1950s through the 1970s in a local thrift shop, for a dollar each. So I stocked up on the ones that looked good.
The problem, though, is that it's nearly impossible to find older books with LGBT characters, much less non-straight romance, even in a genre full of alien species. And I like me some gay romance to warm my little gay heart.
And to make it even more awful, in most straight romance, the author's idea of compatibility consists of, "They're in close proximity to each other, and their genitals don't match." Or, even worse, "They hate each other, and their genitals don't match."
Yet there is some interesting subtext in some of these novels. I am convinced that the one I am reviewing right now, The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner, reflects the late author's struggle with his own sexuality. And in another novel I have read a bit of, Invaders From Rigel by Fletcher Pratt, two "roommates" seem to be a gay couple, one calling the other "old dear," and behaving like he very much cares for Old Dear.
But I want more than subtext. Imagine how straight people would feel if examples of their romance were suppressed for decades, centuries even, or portrayed as decadent, destructive, or wrong--and reading the gay romance in old books was just a depressing reminder that their ancestors had to hide their love. If only we lived in a world where no one had to feel this way.
There are excellent stories out there, with characters who happen to fall in love in matching pairs of men and women. And some characters even go from living as a man to living as a woman, and vice versa. But these books are, nearly all of them, relatively modern, and so relatively expensive. And often, the cheapest option for these is ebooks, which would disappear if we lost access to electricity over the long term.
I can't go out and buy a dozen "gay" books as easily or cheaply as I could a dozen "straight" books. About a month ago, I inquired about LGBT books at a local used bookstore in a small town near me, and the man working there directed me to the feminist section, saying, "You might find some here." I didn't find even one. And I live in Oregon, a semi-blue state.
So I stock up on cheap scifi, mystery, and other books I am curious about, occasionally when I can, while using the rest of my book money to buy books I really want. And the cheap books are almost as easily gotten rid of as they are acquired.
There are also ways to make the most of the heteronormative old books you find. I'm having fun writing a review of a book with very homophobic overtones. I also enjoy reading between the lines, and speculating on what the author was going through at the time, or whether he or she was subtextually writing LGBT characters. It's really fun to dissect a story, criticize it, and speculate about the author.
Writing gay fan fiction, mostly in my head for my own entertainment, is another way I deal with the lack of what I really want to read.
But in most of the books I have, there is always something missing. Stories are not as vibrant, without characters of all kinds of abilities, sexualities, gender identities, races, etc. In the batch of scifi I got, I believe all of the protagonists are male, and almost all are white--the lead in The Wrong End of Time is black (though more "well-spoken" than the bad black characters, meaning understood by the white characters), and the lead in two others (Galactic Derelict and The Defiant Agents by Andre Norton) is Apache. But there is not much diversity other than that, to my knowledge. And these stories really miss out, because of it.
When it comes to minimalism and "stuff," different circumstances in life make me want different things. The snow makes me want to hoard things, especially information and entertainment through books. I have lived through many winters where my only source of entertainment for a day or more are the paper books that I have on hand.
I like to look at pictures of personal and public libraries on Pinterest. I love to dream of having lots and lots of books. But sometimes I think that I'll just get rid of most of the books anyway, especially if they are antique leather-bound books and therefore probably boring to me, terribly heteronormative, or morally appalling in what they do write about homosexuals.
But a more modern science-fiction library, even if most of these paperbacks are written for a straight, homophobic audience? Yeah, I might take that. (I also might cull it down, though.) But I do like having cheap entertainment when there's nothing else to read.
Some people are minimalists, except when it comes to books. I try to keep that in mind, whenever I feel like I have too many. I have a shelf full of cheap scifi, and if I had a lot more, I would probably get rid of some. If they're boring, I won't even read them before I give them away. And I will get rid of them when I'm done reading or reviewing them, too. They are held looser than other books, more easily gotten rid of.
And sometimes I even get rid of the "permanent" books I have on hand, when I'm not using them regularly. Those are more challenging to decide on, and to get rid of. But that's another subject altogether.
The bottom line with books, and with anything, is that you just have to find a balance that works for you. Too much would be overwhelming, and too little would make you feel deprived.
One of the most helpful things I have ever done was to write down the names and authors of the books I'm unsure of getting rid of, so that I can get them back if I want to. I have a special notebook with only that list. So far, I have not had to use it to get any books back, but it does comfort me, nonetheless.
Find the right balance for you--the balance between getting rid of everything and hoarding it all, and the balance between cheap books and desirable books--and write down the ones you do get rid of, if that makes it easier. Your book collection will probably be expanding and shrinking for the rest of your life, so don't worry if it expands temporarily.
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