Definitely, Maybe My Last Borders Book

For the last two years, I challenged myself to read one book a month that was already sitting on my bookshelf. There were two requirements for a book to qualify as the pick for my frugal, solo book of the month club. First, it had to be a book that I had never read before. Second, it had to have been sitting on the shelf for more than a year, waiting for me to get around to reading it.

You would think that I wouldn’t have had that many to choose from. But when I thought of this idea at the beginning of 2020 and counted at least 12 choices before getting halfway through my shelf, I knew that I could. Some books were just a few years old. Others had been waiting more than a decade for their turn at a cracked spine and a bookmark between their pages. Most were books brought home from bookstores in a stack of others. Most were from Borders.

When Borders was closing, I bought so many books. All books that sounded interesting and that I wanted to read. But maybe, definitely more books than I could read in a year. So I didn’t get to all of them right away. I didn’t get to all of them in the first couple years either. Instead, I brought more books home. Because even when you have books you want to read at home, a new book from an author you love is always too tempting.

I used to keep all of my books. But move a few times in a few years, and you start to feel differently about large bookcases. Eventually, my feelings about my book collection became what they are now. I still love books and buy them often. But if I don’t plan on reading a book again, I find it a new home when I finish with it. These days, I have enough books for me. And one day, they’ll all fit in a box or two when the next move comes.

Once I had paired down my book collection to certain point, it became clear how many books were on my shelf that I had never read. Books that had been on my different bookshelves for years, as decorative dust collectors. Books that I still genuinely wanted to read. But I needed a nudge. And my solo book club challenge was my nudge.

The beauty was in the smallness of it. I wasn’t saying that I couldn’t buy new books that were of interest to me. It wasn’t a ban on all new books until I’d cleared my shelves of unread books. Those rules would have sucked all the enjoyment right out of it. It was simply a way to pick up stories that had been waiting too long for their turn on the coffee table. It was just a fun idea.

So for two years now, I’ve picked up book after book chosen by younger versions of myself. The college me that wanted to read all the classics; or at least wanted to see them on my bookshelves. The broken-hearted teenager who raided her sister’s book collection, desperately wanting to feel she was still alive. And books bought by the versions of me that love a trashy romance story, or a deep dive into someone’s scientific research.

The point is, it’s been fun. An unexpected adventure. Not uncharted territory, but fresh tracks in the snow all the same. And in December, I began reading the final book of my solo book club challenge that turned into a two year quest. This journey fittingly ends on a Border’s Classic. Maybe because it’s more than 450 pages long and one of those classics that looks good in a collection, or I didn’t want to read it as much as most of the others, I saved Jane Eyre for last.

It doesn’t usually take me over two months to read a book. Every now and then, sure. And this final book on my adventure is one of these rare slow walks through a story. Maybe it’s because it took over 200 pages for me to be invested in what happens next. Or maybe it’s because I wanted to reflect and savor the whole journey. Honestly, it’s probably a little bit of both. 

Even though I know what bookshelf journey I’m embarking on next, I know that this one I’m closing out was likely a once in a lifetime adventure. Hopefully, never again will I have a book on my shelf waiting over a decade for its turn to be read. That’s how it should be. Because books are meant to be enjoyed, pages turned again and again while readers fall in love.

I’m down to my last hundred pages. Actually, a little less. And because I’m fully invested in the story now, I’ll reach the last, last page of this experience in a few days time. In this final book, this last mile with your destination in sight, I didn’t expect to underline anything. I usually don’t when I read fiction, especially classics. But of course, like this entire experience, this last story surprised me. And whoever reads my copy next will see one underlined sentence in its pages.

Although it’s somewhere in the middle of the book, that one underlined sentence is a good ending for this story. There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort. Jane Eyre is talking about people when she thinks Charlotte Bronte’s words. But, I think it fits for books too.