Inagural blog

Welcome to the inaugural entry for The Eastin Collection. Despite the fact that no one will probably be reading I would like to extend my welcome to the odd assortment of dust bunnies and lost socks that will probably be this entry's only readers.
I intend for this blog to be a sort of literary journal that happens to have an audience in mind. I think for someone of my age I have a particularly large, ecclectic, and altogether fascinating collection of books which I would love to share musings with anyone who might listen. In addition to having these books I am obsessive enough to have organized them in Dewey much to the eye-rolling of my wife, a sociologist with little need for fictional diversion (but she's still a peach anyway).
Each weekly blog entry (feel free to hold me to this schedule) will progress in order from the top shelf to the bottom in an attempt to develop a commentary and hopefully a discussion on each and every book I have accumulated. I reserve the right to take breaks from this venture to muse upon whatever current events, holidays, obituarys, or any other tangents of a literary nature but the central pinion of this endeavor will be, undoubtedly, The Collection.

My glorious bookshelf (bursting at the seams):

I expect that such a monicker might seem a trifle presumptuous and if that is the case...I find it best to roll with it. I don't claim to own the full literary canon or have filled my shelves with fascinating rarities or to even have a lot of books in comparison to some of my colleagues. I simply love books; I love that they sit patiently on their shelves, showing a thin sliver of what contents they hold and that those contents have the ability to transport one into another time or place or mind or manner of existing before they are closed and returned to stand at attention among their brethren.

Unless of course they dribble out onto the floor:

I believe that I have always had a fascination with libraries. As a child movies like Beauty and the Beast and The Pagemaster only increased the romantic image I had of the power of a collection of books and though I don't quite need a rolling ladder to reach each tome in my collection I imagine/hope that someday I will. I believe that the sustained effect of this grandiose image I have of book collections is what makes this topic worth discussing for me and I hope I can share that with my readers.
So I invite you, my linty friends, on a journey of intellectual comiseration and likely a great deal of absurdity as I rediscover the dusty tomes that populate my shelves.