If I had to choose one thing that I absolutely hate about my job it would be weeding! I hate to get rid of a perfectly good book; a book that somebody, someday might want to read. Whenever I have to weed or approve the weeding of a book, I wish I had all of the space available to me so I could keep the books forever. Unfortunately, we have weeding policies that we have to follow and we weed if a book is in bad shape or has not circulated in a specific amount of time. And I have heard all of the arguments for weeding:
I hear it; it doesn't mean that I have to like it.
Here is the best first sentence of the books that are before me today for weeding. It comes from Sidney Sheldon's book, THE OTHER SIDE OF MIDNIGHT:
Through the dusty windshield of his car Chief of Police Georgios Skouri watched the office buildings and hotels of downtown Athens collapse in a slow dance of disintegration, one after the other like rows of giant pins in some cosmic bowling alley.
It got my attention. Too bad I have to get rid of it.