Monday, June 12, 2006

An Embarrassment of Literary Riches

I don't usually have a plan when I get to a bookstore. I don't premeditate my browsing. Actually, when I walk through the doors, I feel a little of the anxiety I think I might feel if I'd just won a shopping spree and I had to decide now, now, now where I needed to be. I don't know why the urgency exists. It always has but it disappears, too.

Once I choose a direction, once I've established where I need to be, I browse in a standing-still-forget-where-you-are manner. I like the experience of having to wonder just how long I've been standing in this one spot. I might even have been muttering to myself, for all I know.

Anyway, last night, in a giant bookstore with my husband, I bought: Douglas Coupland's Hey Nostradamus! (Paper) and J. Maarten Troost's Getting Stoned with Savages : A Trip Through the Islands of Fiji and Vanuatu (Paper) and by Justine Larbalestier's Magic or Madness (Paper).

Last week, I bought a box of 10-cent books from an art college sale: beautiful antique and vintage bindings and some new-ish fiction. The number of titles, I'm sorry to say, I don't know yet.

On Sunday, K and I had the opportunity to browse used books and we did. And I bought some! I had the good fortune of finding some vintage Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys to augment my collections. I also found an edition of Louisa May Alcott's Jack and Jill. Each of these books cost 50 cents.

I'm reluctant to tally my findings.

Anyway, I'm reading Coupland's Hey Nostradamus!.

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