Every Friday, Cienna Madrid offers solutions to life’s most vexing literary problems. Do you need a book recommendation to send your worst cousin on her birthday? Is it okay to read erotica on public transit? Cienna can help. Send your questions to advice@seattlereviewofbooks.com.

Dear Cienna,

At some point, my bookshelves crossed a rubicon. Five years ago, my bookshelves were made up of two-thirds books I'd already read and wanted to keep, and one-third books I wanted to read someday.

Then, gradually, the percentage split between books I treasured and books I aspired to read broke along an even 50/50.

But now, something like 4/5th of my bookshelves are made up of books that I've tricked myself into thinking I'd read one day, even though I'm probably never going to read them. (Sorry, Gertrude Stein, but it's probably never going to happen between us.)

It's important for anyone to have a few to-be-read books hanging around their home. But at what point does this get unhealthy? I think if you were to total up the amount of time it would take me to read all these aspirational books on my shelves, that number would far surpass the amount of hours I've statistically got left in my life. I literally have more books than I could ever read. How do I get this savage garden under control?

Edward, Capitol Hill

Dear Edward,

There are two questions I ask myself whenever I consider getting rid of something:

1) Does its presence create a psychological burden I am unable or unwilling to carry? 2) In the event of a house fire, would I mourn its loss?

These two questions have succinctly ended two relationships and enriched countless second-hand stores. (When you envision a significant other trapped in a house fire and chuckle, it's time to Marie Kondo them.)

Here is a third question that might be relevant to you: can I still tell what color my carpet is?

I have a relative who is a hoarder – a real hoarder, not someone who uses the term to blithely describe their exuberant spending. The kind of person with mental health issues who is eventually forced to use a window as the door to their house. This relative actually had a small fire break out at home. The fire was quickly contained, but once the fire department was on scene they insisted on removing everything from the house and hosing it down with water as a safety measure. When a life's worth of stuff was removed – mostly books and records – my relative marveled at their carpet because they'd forgotten what color it was.

Don't become that person if you can help it. Happy holidays!

Kisses,

Cienna