Hello, old friends. Long time no write. I’m moving; I’ve shut YA New York up for awhile so I can do some revamping (and also some moving), and I have a bone to pick about books.

You see, I have a lot of books. So far I have packed up about ten boxes to keep, given away two boxes, and set aside what looks to be another two to four boxes to give away.

I’ve even thrown away — recycled — a few that had fallen into the bathtub one time too many.

But it’s hard to choose what to keep and what to part with. As a reviewer, I get tons of books. Tons. Some are completely inappropriate for YA New York — picture books for small children, adult romance novels for some reason — and others are books I didn’t find worthy of review.

Then there are the books I did like, and did review. Do I keep them? If I do, I will soon collect so many books that no apartment is big enough to hold them all.

So I use a system. Will this book have a sequel? If yes, keep. Is this book or book series iconic? If yes, keep. What if I don’t like this series? Keep it anyway. What if I feel I’ve gotten all I need from this series? Keep the first book. (Examples:Lemony Snicket, which is tween lit and not really my area of expertise, Gossip Girl: the original series, which I’ve committed to memory though I can’t say I loved every one of the books. My YA LA correspondent should, of course, own every Gossip Girl book, because one of these days she’s going to have to write some TV pieces about the whole thing.)

But what else determines whether I’ll keep something? It feels like a sin to throw away a book … and not just that second copy of the The Book of Mormon, a duplicate gift from the boyfriend’s parents. No, anything that someone has put time and effort into feels like a living being to me.

Still, the idea that I’ll give this book away, and maybe it will circulate, and a few new people will pick it up from the library or the Salvation Army or wherever else books end up, is something that makes me feel better. My galleys of Alma Alexander’s books will live on, and I get to keep the nice hardcover copies for myself. Those books I never reviewed and never will? They too may find an audience. (And some of those books, by the by, are books I meant to review and never got around to. Which is why I’ll be restarting some sort of catchup review thing over at my site, when things get going again.)

But I want to ask all of you, especially Mr. Michael Grant, what you do with your books when you move? Other reviewers, how do you deal with all the books you receive?

In spite of it all, there are always too many books I can never part with — I’m looking at you, Ms. Cabot, with a little bit of resentment because I absolutely must keep every one of your books, always. Books by people I care about, or books about things I care about, or books that are one of a kind, or books I want to study and compare to other books, or books I just want to hug and love forever because they’re so good.

My boyfriend, by the way? Is totally annoyed by how many books I insist on lugging along with me to our new apartment. We’ve been keeping books in a closet for the last year or so, and now we’ve got to buy yet another bookcase.