The big September development in my house arrived in the form of several very large IKEA boxes. Inside were four matching bookcases: beautiful, surprisingly sturdy, and quickly filled with the books that make up my home library. I’ve been told that you can’t claim to own a library until you’ve reached 1,000 books, but I suspect that’s just an arbitrary number someone assigned once, everyone shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?” and then began spreading the word. Recently, I culled quite a few books, so my number shrank. According to my Book Buddy app, I’m sitting at 770, though that includes physical books as well as Kindle editions and audiobooks. The satisfying thing about my home library as it stands now is that nearly every single book is there for a good reason. When I peruse my shelves, I’m delighted by what I see: classics, my favorite books of all time, gifts from people I love, books I shared with my precious book club friends, books that once belonged to my great-grandma, and s...