Adam Oyebanji’s Shelfie
Books, the buying, borrowing, reading, re-reading and shelving of thereof, are a source of joy. I doubt there’s a novelist in the world who doesn’t love books, so when Shelfies asked me to contribute here, I jumped at the chance. Because I love books and everything about them.
I didn’t expect it to make me sad.
It took me awhile to figure out what was going on. Turns out I was in mourning for the books that weren’t on the shelves. The ones I have lost along the way. Because my bookshelves, like the virtual world of The Matrix, have been destroyed and reconstituted many times.
The destruction was never willingly carried out. Collections were lost to sudden changes of address at the hands of my parents, then lack of space at university and shared apartments, and then moves of my own: Scotland to England, England to the USA, multiple moves within the US, and then USA back to Scotland. The rolling stone gathers no books. I particularly miss the dozens of mostly Panther paperbacks I used to own at 35p a pop. The Currents of Space, by Isaac Asimov, was the first “grown-up” SF book I ever bought (I was 10 or 11, I think), I had all of E.E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman, Skylark and Family D’Alembert series, Harry Harrison’s Stainless Steel Rat books and so many more. All gone.
Also gone is my first copy of Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien. Unlike the version on the shelf, it came as a set of three books corralled together by something far too flimsy to be called a box. I remember it being prohibitively expensive and taking up most of my Christmas Holiday pocket money. I bought it on a wet and increasingly windy day from John Smith’s in Glasgow, rode the train home to Coatbridge and started reading. Darkness fell outside, rain and gale force winds lashed at the windows, and the Black Riders had me in such a state of terror that I daren’t stop reading until Frodo and his companions made it to Rivendell—at about 2:30 in the morning.
Another replacement for a book that had gone before is Joan D. Vinge’s The Snow Queen. The one on the shelf was released in the US as a thirty-fifth anniversary edition of one of the most intriguing books I have ever read. I bought the now-lost copy in my late teens, and I think this was the first time I had knowingly bought an SF book written by a female author. As a younger child, I had devoured every book by Andre Norton I could get my hands on, but I had no idea she was a she at the material time, so those wonderful tales don’t count. I think I was attracted by the novelty of it, as female authors in the 1970s weren’t that common. And The Snow Queen is certainly different. Unusually for the time, societal and anthropological issues are front and center rather than tech. Plus, it is just beautifully written. The Snow Queen is one of those SF novels I recommend to people who claim not to like SF, and most have been pleasantly surprised.
Unlike some books that are only recognized as classics later on, The Snow Queen was recognized from the get-go as something special, winning, amongst others, SF’s prestigious Hugo Award. However, it is not the only Hugo winner on this particular shelf. The other one is Some Desperate Glory, by Emily Tesh. My copy makes no reference to the Hugo, though, because I bought it well before the award was won. In 2022, I published my debut novel, Braking Day, and, as a result, scored an invite to sit on a panel at Scotland’s Cymera book festival, which is a celebration of all things science fiction, fantasy and horror. I had never been to a book festival in my entire life, let alone one devoted to SFFH, and was stunned to find myself in the company of so many joyful, like-minded people.
So much so that, the following year, I went along just for the craic. I found myself entranced by an all-female panel called “Final Frontiers” with Stark Holborn (Hel’s Eight), Everina Maxwell (Ocean’s Echo), and Emily Tesh. The discussion around their space-opera novels was witty, ribald and perceptive by turns. So much so that, even though I was not familiar with any of them, I marched over to the bookstore, bought three of their books, and then waited patiently to get them signed. They were every bit as delightful face to face as they were on stage. And now I have a signed Hugo-winning book by a Hugo-winning author from before she won the Hugo. I feel that has to be worth something!
Ironically, the shelf you see here will soon be no more. It will be broken down and reconstituted as the result of yet another move. It is a short hop, though, with plenty of space at the other end. I have high hopes that all my books will survive.
Fingers crossed.
Adam Oyebanji
Adam Oyebanji is an SF/Crime novelist whose work blends thrilling plots with thought-provoking ideas, often exploring themes of identity, belonging, and the occasional whodunnit. His work has been praised for its originality, rich world-building, and sharp storytelling. Born in the United Kingdom but having spent much of his time in the United States and West Africa, Adam draws on a global perspective shaped by a career in law and a lifelong passion for speculative fiction and murder mysteries. His latest novel, Esperance, is out now.
Shelfies is edited by Lavie Tidhar and Jared Shurin.
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