This first picture is in the upstairs hallway, another one built by my husband. It's built against a mansard roof, which means that the wall slopes inward, but no as much as a gable. So when you stand in front of these shelves, they come right at you....here we have on the left some modern fiction (mutual), on the top mostly my old Penguin classics, moving into a bit of biography to the right (also mutual), and finally my husband's martial arts books. It will come as no surprise anyone who's met me that I have no martial arts books of own.
Moving on to a much more interesting set of books, I offer my 10 year old's room. The built-in bookcases around this sticking out chimney (not the same as my bedroom's chimney) were one of the first things we did when we bought the house (and it's just the picture that makes it look slanty. I hope). Before he was born (but after we knew he would be a boy) these shelves were pretty much filled with those of my books I thought a boy might not blush to have (I kept the L.M. Montgomery and Laura Ingalls Wilder in my own room). He is gradually colonizing these shelves with his own books; space is being freed up as younger books migrate to his little brothers room. There is clearly room for more shelves to the right of the chimney--perhaps this winter. And now the boy is taller, it seems that it might be time to move his poster up a foot or so...
This shelf too is partly a creation of us parents...although it's become mostly his own, with just a few carry-overs from us:
This, however, is all his own:
And finally, here's his bedside table. His father is reading Lord of the Rings to him on the nights that it's his turn, and I am reading him The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, abridged on the fly, when it's mine.
Of course, this only shows the books that are neatly put away....he, like the rest of us, has left a debris trail of books elsewhere in the house.