When my son Joel suggested building some new bookshelves in my
office, I suspected he worried about the way I had things stacked up. One day
they would cause me major pain when (when not if) they fell over on me,
depositing about 1500 books on my head. So, with only one trip to the hardware
store, he transformed my entire north wall…
Writers need to be able to find things. I always prided
myself on my “organized clutter.”
Even though I thought I knew where I had put “stuff,” the
ugly truth is I usually spend more time looking for things, than I do writing
about it once I find the research. Of course I also rationalize by using the
“serendipity factor” which is: while you’re looking for what you think you’re looking for, you’ll find
something that is much more wonderful—just by accident.
Take the little booklet my cousin Maxine gave me once about
the history of Sand Creek, Wisconsin grade school. I remember flipping through it at the time and then
shelving it. But it turned up again as I reorganized my books onto my lovely
new shelves, and this time I actually sat down with it. There were two
pictures of my dad I don’t think I’d ever seen before. What a gift! (And a
picture of one of my goofy uncles in drag playing a role in a local production
that I know I never saw before because if I had, it would have been imprinted
on my brain.)
When we lived in our townhouse row in Cambridge one of our
neighbors was afflicted with her “organized clutter” to the point it became a
fire hazard. In her mind, she knew why she couldn’t throw anything away.
Anything! Use your imagination. Everything had a future purpose. But the result was a form of chaos that
eventually brought fire inspectors to her house and resulted in mandatory
cleanouts. She brought the Collyer
brothers to mind. Pack rats par excellence!
Well, thank goodness, my son saved me from all that and my
office is bright, airy, colorful and free of musical instruments or
automobiles. Now, if I could just
find…
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