So it’s been two weeks since I promised I was back from Ye No-Blogging Land. In my defense, all that running off of matcha tea, music, and pure spite energy may have finally caught up with me.
I got sick. Yeah. It wasn’t fun.
Which is why I’ve been doing a lot of nothing. Drinking tea, sitting under a tree, and falling asleep again on the bench in the back garden. A robin actually perched on the back of it while I was there…I’ve yet to determine if this was a favorable greeting or if she was checking to see if I was dead.
I slept for almost two days straight. And for me, that’s utterly bizarre. I don’t sleep a lot, especially during the day. So it’s a pretty clear sign I was, in fact, very sick. I’m still not completely myself yet, so I’m taking it easy.
Hence the lack of posts.
It’s nice here, in early summer. Everything’s green. I keep watching for the first glint of fireflies.
So since my WOTF Vol. 38 review is obviously still in the works, I thought I’d post a little update, plus one of the book haul posts I’ve been promising. Then it’s back to getting back to normal (or something like it) for me and (dare I say it this time?) then a regular posting schedule.
By now, most of you probably know the Book Haul Drill, but since it’s been ages since I did one of these…it goes like this.
Twice upon a year, the local library district holds a fundraiser where they sell old books, battered books, collectible books, books with the covers half chewed, donated new-ish books, posters, puzzles, notebooks, paperbacks, hardbacks, pamphlets–all at very tempting prices, but don’t try to take the boxes out the door, because even though the clerks are mostly elderly, they will tackle you and fix you with the “I gave you my cookies, please respond” sad look and make you regret your heinous box-stealing career.
They do this clever thing where they fold the flaps in and use them as cute little shelf units because the warehouse doesn’t exactly come equipped. Good boxes are practically a form of currency while the sale is in session. Don’t touch Ms. Volunteer’s boxes. She’s braved the plague for this job. She has an apron. She probably has ninja stars in the pockets. She’s packed all your books in a nice bag for you and said have a nice day and smiled so the sun came out. Don’t steal a box.
I only did it once. Didn’t make it as far as the first set of doors. In my defense, it was my first sale, and I didn’t know the rules back then.
Twice a year, I grab a buddy, strap my violin case on my back and bolt out the door as soon as symphony rehearsal is over to get to the sale before all my fellow Book Hunters have snapped up the goodies.
I know the stretch of road between the concert hall and the fairgrounds by heart. The shady burrito place, the train tracks, the creepy bridge, the out-of-business hat shop in the old fire station that never actually sold hats, the house with the wind chimes, the dairy, the last big hill before the empty college that nobody’s had the money to buy, and then the gates to the fairgrounds.
With luck, we pick the right entrance on the first try. Without luck, we pull into the closed pedestrian ticket gate before pulling back out again and finally getting into the parking lot. Sometimes twice.
But then it’s just the building with the giant green star on it, a passel of bookworm cars, and the abandoned food stands clustered here and there as the sun starts to slant behind us and I have to remind myself not to outpace my buddy because I’m walking fast, standing up to my full height for a change, paying no attention to the petunias planted outside because they are only a minor attraction between me and countless perfect books.
…from back in September.
Yeah, I said I was sorry. But I got two degrees and the flu, so you know, be a little nice to me.
Anyway, the book haul this fall was particularly special because I wasn’t going on a Thursday night after two rounds of hunters had already ravaged through. I was getting in on presale night. Before everybody.
I am officially a Friend of my local library district.
(screams in bookmarkedone)
So what this means is that while everyone who doesn’t have membership had to wait until Wednesday night, I got to sashay my little self in a whole day early.
And I get a discount at the library gift shop, so…I’m on so many levels of euphoria I can’t even.
Okay. Enough gushing. You want to know what books I got, right?
- The Runes by Horik Svensson, which I’ve already read because it’s short and I was curious. The cover is shiny. I have no regrets about this purchase.
- Eternal by Michael Moorcock, because I’ve been snapping up Moorcock books and the cover design is so gorgeous on all of them ohh I want them to be good so badly I’m scared,
- Magician by Raymond E. Feist, because it had a green dragon on the cover and it said Take me, so I did,
- the telling by Ursula K. LeGuin, because it is my aim to snap up any and all of her books I can get my grubby claws on,
- All seven of the Harry Potter books, plus Tales of Beedle the Bard and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. All of them. They’re mine now. I just managed carrying them all up a flight of stairs. Now the only question is where they’re going to fit on my shelves. I may need more bookshelves. Ha. I always need more bookshelves.
- Phantastes by George MacDonald, no explanation necessary.
- word power: 120 WORDS THAT ARE FUN TO SAY by pocket posh, because I’m building a fairy language and I need them all,
- finally my own copy of The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. It’s so tiny compared to the gigantic hardcover of The Wise Man’s Fear. It looks like the sequel could eat it and still have room for more. I don’t care. I love this little book to pieces already.
- King’s Man & Thief by Christie Golden, because it comes recommended by Katherine Kurtz and the cover is gorgeous and we know about my weakness for all thief books everywhere always, don’t we?
- Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
- The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli (because my friend dared me when I was at the sale on the second night)
- Medieval and Renaissance Poets, Langland to Spenser, edited by W.H. Auden and Norman Holmes Pearson
- The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain, in a blue cover with the upper right corner torn off. I love this book. You must read this book. It’s wild.
- The Haunted House by Charles Dickens
- Coriolanus by William Shakespeare
- The Robots of Dawn by Isaac Asimov
- Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (finally!)
- The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe, hardcover, green, with gold lettering on the cover. It’s gorgeous. I never buy collector’s edition anything.
- The Works of Chaucer.
- the third Revenge of Magic book by James Riley to devour and share with a friend.
- Two Harry Potter mini planners, a lovely Sherlock Holmes journal, and a periwinkle journal that I couldn’t resist. I mean, if we’re being real here, I’m going to fill them. All of them.
So that’s the book haul. I like to do these not only because it lets my inner librarian catalogue everything (very happy now), but because it previews what’s on my shelves.
Hint, friends. If you see a book you want to hear me book review/rant about, say so! That’s why I have a comments section, so you can tell me what you think is cool.
Also I have pictures.
Look at these beauties. The colors make me so happy. And I wasn’t kidding about the pocket edition of The Name of the Wind. Little tiny book. Imagine if I’d had that while I was reading it. That’s like what, seven pounds I carted around in my backpack because I had a library hardcover? It feels like more. I still loved the hardcover, of course.
Anyway, that’s probably enough for now.
As always, thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more bookmarkedone adventures…after I’ve had a few more cups of tea.
Until next time!