The weirdly long ones that jut out past the edge of your shelf, but if you flip them over and stack other books on top of them, you won’t have room to put any books next to them anyway.
Books about the life of the author’s dog or cat which culminate in the death of the dog or cat and the lessons it taught the author and their family.
Books by women that have pastel ribbon belts on the cover because of the patriarchy, but only so they can be burned and re-issued with classy covers that reflect their stature as legitimate bildungsromans.
Books about the author’s decision to do something different for a whole year and how at first it was hard but then they kind of got into it and were almost sorry when the year ended but not really and now they still do that thing once a month for fun.
Books with “REMAINDER” stickers on them that will never give up their horrible residue, no matter how much time you spend idly digging at them with your fingernail.
The ones you stole from an ex and no longer enjoy but do not want to return and feel bad giving away.
The ones where baby animals try to wake up their sleeping parents, but their parents are actually dead.
The used ones you buy online that don’t look like they have the movie tie-in cover, but then when they arrive, they have the movie tie-in cover, and then you look like you just heard about The Age of Innocence because you saw this old lady playing Spock’s mom and wanted to know what else she’d been in.
Books you had and cherished in your house as a child which was apparently such a long time ago that they are now for sale as “Vintage and Market Finds.”
Nicole is an Editor of The Toast.