Sunday, March 21, 2010
Used book finds
While on my way to the pet store yesterday to buy the expensive litter that's our only line of defense against Claudius having accidents outside the box, I took an out-of-the-way detour and wound up at the used book store.
Incredibly enough, I had not been there in eight months. Even more incredibly, the unfriendly store cat was happy to see me and insisted that I make over him instead of glaring that I ought to keep my distance if I knew what was good for me.
So after our mutual schmooze session, I sneezed and snuffled along the fiction shelves and came away with:
Breakfast of Champions. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. I have no idea where my original copy has wound up, but this one looks just like that long-lost friend. Ah, nostalgia. . .
Hideous Kinky. Esther Freud. I'd been on the lookout for this for awhile.
The Decameron. Giovanni Boccaccio. I think this is going to be my long-term project once I've completed Ulysses.
The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart. M. Glenn Taylor. A National Book Critics Circle Award finalist, according to the cover, which sports an impressive-looking snake.
Still Alice. Lisa Genova. Alzheimer's disease. I'll have to work up some courage to read it.
Our Sometime Sister. Norah Labiner. With this purchase I now own all Labiner's novels. I suppose that's a sign I should stop collecting her work and get around to reading it.
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