David Woods was a university student when he formed an insatiable appetite to find out more. He bought books – lots of them.

Thirty years on, the 50-year-old council worker is surrounded on all sides by his ever-growing collection: 15,000 books and DVDs fill his small bungalow on the outskirts of Edinburgh. “It’s quite tricky to let go of some stuff,” he admits.

“If I was living in a big, posh house and had this amount of books on the shelves, they would call it a library,” he said. “Nobody would go ‘Oh, Lord Toffington is a hoarder!’ But because I’m living in a bungalow and I’m the underclass, I’m a hoarder.”

Woods is a hoarder, as is his housemate Lynda. They’re midway through an anxiety-ridden declutter, which has already resulted in one transit van full of “stuff” being taken away, with about six more left to fill. By the end, they hope, there may even be room to sit down.

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