Bibliothèque d'intérieure

What’s on the shelves of your inner library?

We had a rare family night last night as our adult children emerged from their rooms to join us by the fire. The living room is where most of the books are - though I’ve already packed up 15 boxes of them as we inch our way toward selling our house - and the dogs graciously allowed us to join them on the furniture they managed to claim as their own during our summer months of outdoor living. Conversation turned toward favorite books, as it might in a room full of them, specifically the ones that were formative and particularly memorable.

My kids both talked about the Harry Potter books because I had read them out loud to each kid when they were about six or seven years old. Sadly, those books didn’t make the list of ones my kids would read to the children they might someday have because the author has used her massive platform to spread hate, but it doesn’t detract from their place on the shelves of our inner libraries. Enid Blyton was also a problematic author, but her Five Find Outers books were so important to my own childhood as they only English-language books for kids I could find in the used bookstore in Kathmandu, that I made reading them out loud to my kids an event to be savored with our version of an English tea to accompany each day’s reading.

My first real experience of reading fantasy was with the Harper Hall of Pern series by Anne McCaffrey, and though the patriarchal conflicts Menolly faces feel somewhat dated now, the idea that a young woman could be the main character in a genre dominated by male authors was absolutely formative to my own creation of my first heroine, Saira.

My inner library includes the quotes I’ve put on t-shirts and in chapter headings. “Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful” joined the collection around the time I turned 50, and Mary Shelley’s words never fit anyone so well. “The best princesses are made of chaos and fairy dust, and they carry their own swords” has become a mantra for Kick-Ass Heroines, and “You can tell who the strong women are. They’re the ones building each other up instead of tearing each other down,” is the basis for every friendship I make.

The travel section of my inner library is especially rich with experiences, and revisiting the most formative travel through photos is a way to reconnect with myself and my journey. London in 2019 remains one of my most memorable trips – Romance Author and Reader Events (RARE) was the excuse to invite my readers to join me on an exploration of Ringo’s London, and I loved bringing my research to life for people on and off the page.

Heather Cox Richardson dominates the politics section of my inner library as her political analysis of these unprecedented times is the only way I can process each day’s news without spiraling into despair. But the creative content of LGBTQ activists, feminist and trans-rights advocates, and human rights defenders are part of the socio-political landscape in my library as well. When I designed my “I Read Banned Books” shirts I truly believed they had a shelf life, because the Moms for Liberty chaos agents should have been shouted down by now. The statement a German friend made then still resonates – she loved the design but wouldn’t wear it in Germany where the only banned books are the truly hateful ones that spread Nazi propaganda and lies, and I reflect on that every time I look at mainstream news media today.

My inner library is full of bagpipe tunes and 80s dance music I still know all the words to. The theme songs from M*A*S*H and The Pink Panther movies are part of the soundtrack, along with Pete Seeger, The Beatles, and the original cast recordings from Jesus Christ Superstar.

Herbal medicine, organic gardening, knitting tutorials, and home design magazines fill almost as many shelves of my inner library as cookbooks do. I will never stop seeking inspiration for things to make as gifts for the people I love, whether its batches of lip balm or rose wreathes from book pages and political posters, because handmade in a world of store-bought is an expression of my love language.

My inner library now includes an ever-expanding repertoire of event production resources and a rolodex (I had one when I was a film producer) of people to call to help make something extraordinary. And like all the best libraries, those resources are freely shared rather than hoarded like dragon’s gold for my own use. It’s not the most business-savvy way to go about life, as evidenced by the amount of volunteer work I do, but I just can’t view my inner library as a bookstore with price tags on everything. The fundamental point of a public library is free access to information for all, and I believe the contents of an inner library are more valuable when they’re shared. Identifying and cataloging the books in our inner libraries an entertaining exercise, but it really only gains meaning when access is granted, when connections are made, and when resources are shared.

I love libraries, and the concept that human beings are made of them speaks to my soul. Libraries are places of learning, places where knowledge is exchanged and the access to growth is offered to everyone, regardless of citizenship, circumstance, or means.

It may be overly simplistic to apply this logic to our inner libraries, but it makes sense to think of ourselves this way. We are more than just the collection of the books, music, experiences and ideas that make us. Those things live through us as resources, and when we use what we’ve learned and experienced to build communities it’s as though we open the doors to our inner libraries and invite each other in.