If you’re reading this, it means I’m already dead… (Oops, sorry, that’s another blog I’m working on!)
If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you’re a blogger. Which means you’re a writer (of sorts). Which means you’re probably also a reader. Potentially, even a crazy, hardcore, old-school, the-book-as-artifact-is-the-thing-loving bibliomaniac reader like myself. Or maybe not.
Whatever the case, if you’re someone who has seldom, if ever, left a bookstore empty handed, then you’re my kind of people.
I do try to control myself. Sometimes I even just use my cell phone to take photos of the books I want to buy, then rush home and submit an on-line request for them at my local library. But even in those instances, I still hardly ever leave the bookstore without at least one bag of “product.”
So thank the book gods for the “remaindered” tables, or, as I like to call them, the “how-can-I-not-buy an-interesting-hardcover-book-for-between-$6.99-and-$10” displays. (Though it pisses me off when the retailers insist on marring the underside of a book’s textblock with a marker line before moving it over to the “discount” side of the store. We know they’re remainders already, so leave the marker in your pocket for Chrissake, and stop defacing my future books!)
That’s not say I don’t buy full-priced new books hot off the presses as well (anything by Ian McEwan or Carlos Ruiz Zafon, to name a couple), but it’s amazing what eventually makes its way to the remaindered table if you’re patient.
Yesterday’s catches, for example, for just under $30CAD (including taxes, and allowing for my 10% loyalty card discount), were as follows:
Countdown: Our Last, Best Hope for a Future on Earth?, by Alan Weisman, for $3. Yes, $3! I have, in fact, taken this book out of the library before, but never did get the chance to read it, so this is a double win for me. Personally I think we’ve damaged the earth beyond repair at this point in human history, so it’ll be interesting to see what Mr. Weisman has to say.
Shady Characters: Ampersands, Interrobangs and other Typographical Curiosities, by Keith Houston, for $10. Yeah, if you haven’t figured it out already, I’m a bit of a word / grammar / punctation nerd too, so I’m excited about this one. Plus I really liked the design and feel of the mock-imprinted dust jacket.
The Breakout Novelist: Craft and Strategies for Career Fiction Writers, by Donald Maass, for $10. This goes on the shelf with my gazillion other writing guides. Well maybe not a gazillion, but — especially if you’re a wanna-be writer like I am — you know what I mean; there’s enough of them that, even if I started reading them this morning, and diligently completed all the various exercises and prompts each of them takes you through, by the time I finished the last of them, and was ready to start writing — or, I should say, finish writing — my breakout novel, I’d be about 107 years old. But, still, it’s got that nice Writer’s Digest binder-esque workbook construction about it, and seemed like such a perfect companion piece to my similarly-bound The Nighttime Novelist: Finish Your Novel in Your Spare Time (also purchased from the remainder shelves), that I simply could not not — notice the clever use of the double negative there to further accentuate my thesis and expose my internal state of conflict about the whole matter — bring it home with me.
A Fatal Likeness, by Lynn Shepherd, for $7.99. Well, I couldn’t leave without at least one work of fiction in my bag. Right? And this one traffics in that 19th century Gothic mystery atmosphere I’m such a sucker for, to say nothing of promising some sophisticated literary intrigue and even a Frankenstein connection: “Hardly a conniving criminal, Claire Clairmount [who is trying to sell a cache or rare papers that supposedly belonged to Percy Bysshe Shelley] is in fact the stepsister of Mary Shelley, and their tortured history of jealousy, obsession, and dark deceit looms large over the affair that Maddox must untangle.” Again, even if it turns out to be crap, how can you go wrong for $7.99? It still fills up a bookcase as convincingly as any other of its more worthy brethren.
So, tell me, how do you curb your bookstore cravings? Or do you?