"So why do you do that?"

This was a question that a coffee-shop acquaintance posed to me today. Why, the acq. wondered, was I taking notes on the book I was reading in the shop?

Sometimes that question is easy to answer: It's a book I'm reviewing. Q.E.D. And I have found over the years (I've been a book-reviewer for about twenty years now) that when I take fairly detailed notes, the review I'm going to write is simultaneously forming in my head.

But what about books I'm not reviewing?

This was the case today. I was reading a novel by Kate Atkinson--one of her Jackson Brodie mysteries (When Will There Be Good News?)--and, about 2/3 of the way through it, I already had ten pages of notes.

Why?

Okay, let's rewind a little (in true Atkinson style): There are books on which I take notes on sheets of paper; there are other books whose only notes are some brief penciled reminders in the front papers; there are other books on which I make no notes at all.* Let's begin with the last ...

• Books with No Notes at All
• These tend to be the thrillers and mysteries I read at the end of the day, in bed, waiting for Morpheus to arrive. I've always got a couple of them going--sometimes on Kindle, sometimes not. Right now--a hard copy of Ken Bruen's latest (The Galway Silence) about Jack Taylor + the recent one by John Grisham (Kindle: The Reckoning). Oh, very rarely I will take a swift note on something in one of these books--but hardly ever. Mostly these, for me, are bedtime snacks to be consumed swiftly and with great pleasure.
• Books with a Few Notes in the Front Papers
• These are books of all sorts--books I'm reading for information (and pleasure), books that are up the ladder a step or two from those great thrillers I read. Right now, these include Wilkie Collins' The New Magdalen, a new bio of Wild Bill Hickok, a popular science book about the critters that live in our houses with us (not dogs and cats--but bacteria, bugs, etc.), a serious novel by Haruki Murakami (Killing Commedatore). I jot down page #s of things I may want to allude to later on--sometimes a brief explanation (in pencil).
• Books with Detailed Notes
• I've already mentioned the necessity of this for my book-reviewing.
• So ... I also take detailed notes on books by writers I really love (right now, it's Kate Atkinson; lately, I've done the same with Rachel Cusk, John A. Williams, Rachel Kushner, and many others), on writers I used to teach (Faulkner, Shakespeare, Dickinson, etc.), on writers I think are significant (Jerome Charyn, Joyce Carol Oates, etc.).

Here's the problem: What to do with those notes? Right now I have, oh, seven four-drawer file cabinets stuffed with notes and information about writers (Joyce has several more upstairs). I'm going to need to buy another one--and soon. Or two.

I read this over, and I see I have not yet arrived at the Why? answer.

[PAUSE WHILE I THINK ABOUT IT.]

I don't know.

Or, more accurately, Because I feel I have to. And I want to.

You see, you never know when I might have to ... you know ...?

*BTW--I never underline or annotate pages--not anymore. We are now selling much of our library on abebooks.com, and few things diminish the value of a book more than pencil and/or pen marks on the pages.