So at last my house move has begun to seem like a distant nightmare and I am happily – very happily – settled in somewhere that is now feeling very much like Home.

And now that the decorators have finally departed leaving a splendidly refreshed and bright interior – I was beginning to feel as if I was sharing my newly acquired Victorian terrace with the two of them – I am able to turn my mind away from paint choices, discard endless sample pots and colour charts and unpack cases of books onto my purpose-built and customised book shelves.

It’s what I’ve always wanted – the ability to have virtually all my books in the same place rather than randomly distributed around the place.

But then here comes the dilemma: how to arrange and display them?

The choice is endless, it seems.

Do I go for aesthetics and colour code them?

That’s popular in some circles, I’ve heard.

Or by height order? Tallest to shortest, thickest to slimmest?

Or, of course, there’s the conventional alphabetical by author route to take. That’s surely standard.

But what about separating paperback from hardback – is that a given or should one be less divisive about such a matter? Should all fiction be thrown in together regardless of the quality of the cover?

So many dilemmas and decisions face me as I stare at my brand new white shelves built against my dark blue open under stairs ‘library,’ as I like to think of it.

I start with what I have always done – namely, a shelf for classic fiction- 19th and early 20th century novels – and a shelf for all fiction since.

So far so good.

But even that begins to look problematic. The size of contemporary paperback fiction varies so. There are those ‘airport special early paperback editions’ that are noticeably bigger, chunkier, than book shop acquired copies and sit rather ungainly next to their more diminutive cousins. Should they be shelved separately? As if their size suggests sidelining to a more discreet location that will not jar the eye.

And if fiction doesn’t prove sufficiently troublesome, the range of non-fiction is a positive minefield.

Some categories are straightforward, of course. Poetry – tick. Drama – tick. Children’s books – Postman Pat, P. B. Bear’s Christmas, Paddington Bear, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt et al tick.

But I seem to possess random books that require a solitary position that even my generous new book shelf allowance cannot run to … I mean 800 Years of Women’s Letters, A Grief Observed, The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, Women Who Write – where and under what genre do librarians place these titles?

There is also another problem that I am choosing to turn my back upon at the moment.

My new shelves are now nearly full.

Yet I’m aware that there are considerably more books lurking in deep cupboards that have not yet shouted loud enough to be discovered- books shoved out of sight to allow floor space and decorators’ access to walls on the first few days after moving in.

There’s virtually the entire oeuvre of Beatrix Potter hiding somewhere, books inherited, books unread but with a vague sentimental attachment. The Princess Book of Ballet – an annual so at least three editions circa mid 1960s – must still be submerged along with random items yet to see the light of day in their new home. Wherever will they take up residence when they are finally released from their current subterranean quarters?

But enough is enough. A problem for another time.

After all, Christmas is now upon us and it’s far more important to unearth the tree ornaments and lights, find the tree stand and make pertinent decisions about where to place the cards, the holly, ivy and mistletoe to serve the season.

But my curiosity remains.

How do other people arrange and display their books? Am I missing a trick, have I overlooked a habit that 21st century readers and book buyers have adopted?

I’d love to know!