Book collecting is my obsession. My shelves stretch higher than my ceiling could ever allow, and still, there’s never enough space. My home library has taken over my life – and honestly, I love it. It’s not decoration, it’s devotion. Every wall carries stories, every corner holds quiet company. Some people live with art; I live with books.
People often ask how long it takes to build a library like this. The truth? It never ends. A home library is never finished – it grows, shifts and changes with you.
Inside My Home Library – The Living Room Library
The heart of my apartment is a 4.5-metre String shelf that stretches from floor to ceiling. It’s my comfort zone and my chaos. The books are sorted by colour – a slow gradient from white to deep blue to black – yet nothing stays in place for long. Sometimes I move them around just to feel their weight, to rediscover the ones I’d forgotten. Morning light hits the spines, the paper smells faintly of dust and time, and suddenly everything feels right.
The Ritual of Re-Arranging Books
Every few months I start again. A new system, a new pattern. Maybe by mood, maybe by memory. It’s not about control. It’s about connection. Touching each book reminds me why I bought it, where I read it, or why I still haven’t. Re-ordering my shelves feels like refreshing my thoughts. It’s my version of meditation – quiet, repetitive, endlessly satisfying.
The Overflow of Stories
The pile beside my bed is taller than it should be. A second bookshelf stands nearby, already full. I tell myself I’ll read them all, but secretly, I love knowing there are stories waiting for me. Unread books don’t make me anxious; they make me feel rich in possibilities.
The Kids’ Corner in Our Home Library
My children have their own tiny library – low shelves, bright covers, books with fingerprints and folded pages. But they keep sneaking their favourites into mine. Our home library has become a shared landscape, one where picture books rest next to poetry, and crayons occasionally mark the classics. It’s not perfect. That’s what makes it beautiful.
The Collector’s Habit
I buy new books even when I already have enough. I trade, I lend, I keep. Some are stacked so tightly I can’t see the covers anymore. I’m a book collector, and I’m proud of it. It’s not about owning everything – it’s about surrounding myself with words that make me feel alive. Bookstore browsing in my favorite shops is what keeps me the most alive.
Why My Home Library Tells My Story
Living with books isn’t about order or display. It’s about texture, comfort, identity. My home library is my autobiography, written in paper, dust and colour. It tells my story more honestly than any diary ever could. If you love books, you know this feeling – the warmth of a shelf, the quiet company of a thousand voices.
See more of my book-filled corners, bookshops, libraries and all things books on Instagram @prettybookplaces. I love working with creative brands and tourism boards that share a passion for design, culture and storytelling.