I was strolling through a model home in Phoenix recently, and was pleased to note that the interior designer had used books as part of the furnishings, along with big-screen TVs and overstuffed sofas.
Most of the books perched on dressers in the bedrooms were bound in plain, white paper. Among them: "Dreamhouse" by Alison Habens, "Blood Lake" by Frank McConnell, and "Taking Lives" by Michael Pye. If I were one of those authors, I don't know how I'd react to seeing my books mummified and used as props, along with old cameras and modern prints.
On the kitchen counter, meanwhile, "The Soup Bible" was open to a recipe for plantain and corn soup (it was Phoenix, remember), and the "Windows on the World Complete Wine Course" was perched near the wine racks.
I did notice that there were no real bookshelves in the house. That's very different from older homes, which often had built-ins in the living room and den, if not the bedrooms. Nowadays, I'm afraid, the Kindle and other e-readers may soon make bookshelves obsolete. We'll be a little poorer for it.