My Books Are Invisible and I Want Them Back (opens in new tab)

My Books Are Invisible and I Want Them Back There used to be a thing that happened when someone came to your house. They'd drift over to your bookshelf. They'd tilt their head sideways to read the spines. And then the conversation would start. "Oh, you read Gödel, Escher, Bach?" or "Wait, you have the whole Dresden Files?" or just a long knowing look when they spotted the Ursula Le Guin. Your bookshelf was a social artifact. It was a portrait of your mind sitting right there in the room. I've...