Earlier this year, after watching the entire season of Tidying Up With Marie Kondo with the rest of the clutter-prone world, I had one impassioned takeaway: Boxes. I needed those storage boxes.

Boy, we really know how to wreck a good thing. Japan sends us their charismatic organizational expert and what do we do? We ruin her by turning her into a verb.

Marie Kondo has built an empire around her "life-changing" method of tidying up, inspiring millions to quit the cruelty of rolling socks into balls and start the practice of thanking inanimate household objects that spark joy. She's now reaching a new audience: Graphic novel fans.

We all have stuff that we need and want and love in our lives, and stuff that’s hanging around our homes because it’s junk that we haven’t yet realised is junk. For Marie Kondo, asking “Does this spark joy?” is the way to tell the difference. If that doesn’t work for you, try these questions instead.

I’m so sorry but we’re still talking about Marie Kondo. The popularity of her Netflix show Tidying Up caused an uptick in donations to charity shops and used bookstores, according to CNN, the New Yorker, and Stranger. Now’s the time to take your “want to read” list to a used bookstore and stock up, while everyone else is cleaning house.

Now is the winter of our discontent and—due to something happening on Netflix—people seem to be managing this discontent by getting rid of all their shit. I’m into it. I have always been a fan of purging, and this extends to my fridge, freezer, and cabinets.

(I do a fridge re-organisation at least once a week, lest I lose my damn mind.)

It’s Marie Kondo’s world now, and we’re all just trying to declutter in it.

There’s been a lot of backlash to Marie Kondo’s attitude toward books, thanks to her new Netflix show. In her book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, she encourages readers to get rid of all their unread books. She says that she personally only owns 30 titles. Her critics say that’s ridiculous, and in fact you should cover your home in books.

Ever since Marie Kondo took the cluttered world by storm, simply having stuff has seemed like something of a faux pas. There are countless how-to guides on the need to streamline closets and pare down our book collections to only those that bring us "joy," whatever that means. I recently read an article that proclaimed the best minimalist workspace was one that didn't even include a desk, paper or computer -- ideally you'd just sit on the ground and think. As I looked around my desk, topped with books, journals, pens and pictures of my family and friends, I couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed about all of my possessions. Did I really need the 10-pack of Sharpies? Were the two new novels I bought for my upcoming trip bringing me joy?