I don’t have bookshelves in the traditional sense, but the walls of my basement are lined with wire cubes, stacked in various configurations. It really is beginning to resemble a Habitrail for Humanity.

One dozen cubes house my comic collection, polybagged and kept in file boxes. Most are Marvel and DC, although a few indies are in there as well. Most come from the mid 70’s through the mid 90’s, though a some are newer and a handful are older.

Three cubes hold my college texts, heavy biology and chemistry books from when I was pre-med, film and mass media books when I realized I didn’t want to be pre-med.

Three cubes hold screenplays, bound with brass brads, their titles on the spine written in black sharpie. Some I’ve written, most were written by others, but I’ve written notes in the margins of all of them.

Two more cubes hold a hodgepodge of bios, histories, Complete Idiot’s Guides, and Dummies books of various subjects.

And then, there’s my leisure reading…