Do you get stuck sometimes? Stuck in the proverbial rut maybe? Or bored? I do. I also get, well, afraid: Afraid to try new things, to step outside of my comfort zone. Some of these things illicit a mild discomfort, others sheer animalistic panic. When those fears build up around me, trapping me– that is when I feel stuck and unable to move forward, backward, up or down. It isn’t a depression; it’s more a feeling of boredom, fear and discomfort with daily life.
When people ask what it was like to have Christmas in the middle of Summer in Chile, I point out that Christmas Eve was the best time to go to the beach. Two reasons: it was beautiful weather (true any day around Christmas); the beach was deserted other than the occasional tourist. Why? Because Chileans are much worse procrastinators than Americans when it comes to Christmas shopping: they are all crammed into the stores !
That said, this year I find I am almost as bad. I shall be mailing my mother’s present tomorrow (Christmas Eve). None the less, recently I have bought both musical and literary items which would make great gifts.
I had an amazing book adventure this weekend. As I have most likely mentioned a time or two, John Updike is my favorite author. I have nearly everything he ever published, and I list his 1962 novel, The Centaur, as my favorite Updike work, and also my all-time favorite novel.
1962 was the year I graduated from 8th grade, and I was anxious to enter the “grown-up” world of high school. An English teacher told me I was a good writer, and he recommended some things for me to read. One of them was The New Yorker. I went to a newsstand near the elevated train station I took for the ride home from school that day and purchased the latest issue. Later that year, The Centaur came out, and I was hooked.
As any storyteller knows, the first thing an author needs to do is grab the audience’s attention. The medium does not matter: whether the story is presented audibly, as a written work, on TV, stage, or in the theatre, grab the audience’s attention. Author Rachel Coles has learned this well. In the very first page of Pazuzu’s Girl, the protagonist – a teenaged girl named Morpho – has an interesting if strange argument with a field of grasshoppers, which (after she leaves) coalesce into her father, Pazuzu, the ancient Mesopotamian demon of plague and pestilence.
The elven boy looked at his sleeping father’s face. The poor man looked so exhausted when he arrived home, his long ears drooping, barely enough energy to give the boy a hug before his slender form collapsed into the sleeping furs. The boy had carefully wrapped those around his father’s long body: winter had come early, and it would be a cold night. But that gave him time to work on his morning surprise.
It had been a long month, home alone. But at 72, the boy knew he was half an adult, certainly capable of taking care of himself for a few weeks, even in the City. He thought back …
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Book Review: “Backyard Giants” by Susan Warren
Perhaps like me, you’ve never given a lot of thought to what goes into competitive giant pumpkin growing.
I’m not sure what prompted me to pick this book up, other than my abiding love of the bizarre. I’m kind of a sucker for what are sometimes called “monomania” books, books that take a single subject and examine it finer than frog hair split four ways. (Other examples would be “Cod” by Mark Kurlansky, or ” The Tulip” by Anna Pavord.) I’m glad I did pick this one up however, and will never look on giant pumpkin contests with the same eye again. These people are dedicated in a way that I can never hope to emulate.
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The recent announcement that our closest stellar neighbor, Alpha Centaurus (also known as Rigel Kenturis, the Foot of the Centaur, and abbreviated as α Centauri), has at least one earth-sized planet makes stories (such as Cry from a Silent Planet, which I reviewed 13 October) much more interesting. That book assumed an advanced, technical civilization only 50 light-years away. The first question most readers will ask is: “What are the odds?”
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Listeners of my radio segment, “Likely Stories” know it airs on the first and third Thursdays and the following Saturday and Sunday mornings. However, four times a year, a month has a fifth Thursday, and I usually do something special. My favorite thing for these extra shows is an author interview. The next 5th Thursday arrives in November. Continue Reading →
I had the pleasure of reading a book from an author new to me: John Rowland of the United Kingdom. The book, Cry from a Silent Planet, is intended to be one of a trilogy; the inside cover says it was first released in paperback in 2005. A South African website shows a pretty cover and gives the date as 4 July 2005. The sequel, The Sands of Hetranova, apparently has not been published yet; the third book is not yet named. Thus while I am looking forward to reading the other two, it may be a long wait.
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Back in July, I posted about my life with The New Yorker – absolutely my favorite magazine. This time, I would like to write about my second favorite publication: The Atlantic, originally founded as The Atlantic Monthly in 1857. That’s right, for 155 years it has been a premiere journal of art, culture, politics, and news. Now, this is NOT another story about hoarding. I do read it every month, then I pass my copy on to a friend, or I recycle the issue.
This is what it looks like so now you know what to look for!
Normally I do not read many books. In this day and age, I am more contented with reading articles and seeing the movie when it inevitably gets made into a film. Most of the time when I touch physical media that happens to be called a book it commonly has a prefix of “Comic”. As in comic book which is more of an illustrated variation of literature. And that isn’t necessarily a bad thing!
However I digress! Very recently I had the fortune of happening upon a local bookstore and finding Cormac McCarthy masterpiece ‘No Country For Old Men.’ I had first become acquainted with it through film first back in 2007 with the release of a film of the same name. It was directed by the Coen Brothers who have an eye for detail and care for characters. It had become one of my favorites, though in all honesty, I really hadn’t given reading the book much thought since it was a solid cinematic piece. So for a handful of dollars I picked it up and took it home.
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As I am sure my faithful followers know, I love to read. Consequently, my favorite Christmas, birthday, anniversary, and Thanksgiving gifts are books. Last Christmas, my wife surprised me with an impressive stack of books. Some of these I wanted — and she knew that – because they were new releases from some of my favorite authors.
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For many residents of Waco, “Sironia” is a collection of gift shops and a café on Austin Ave. Those who have lived in Waco long enough, however, may know the origin of the name, and its literary connection.
Madison A. Cooper, Jr. would have felt right at home at Bohemia, since he himself was one of Waco’s original Bohemians. The son of local grocers, he graduated from UT in 1915 with a B.A. in English. After graduation he returned to Waco to work in the family store. With the outbreak of war in 1917, he enlisted and served with merit in France for the better part of two years.
Returning to Waco, he settled down and resumed his position with the family business. Few people knew that he had literary ambitions, or that he spent eleven years working on a novel. It was a massive roman a cléf about a fictional (but suspiciously familiar) town in Texas called “Sironia”. At 840,000 words, it still is one of the longest novels in the English language.
1917 cover for “A Princess of Mars” by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
I have been bitten by the writing bug. During July 2011 – June 2012, I wrote three stories submitted for publication in Bohemia (4,200 words) and about 68,000 words delivered orally. Since July 2012, the oral component is even larger, and I took 5,000 words with me to a writing workshop two weeks ago. After two weeks, that 5,000 words is now 10,000 words and growing. At that rate, this year I expect my written output to exceed my oral work.
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About two months ago, I shared my summer reading List, and I thought it time for an update and a few comments about what I have read. Here is the list:
Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen — [Done. Florida newspaper reporter turned novelist.]
I, Iago by Nicole Galland — [Done. Shakespeare’s Othello told from Iago’s viewpoint]
Making Things Better by Anita Brookner — [still on the table]
Author Martha Wells reading her new opus.
I just had a wonderful weekend: writing, artwork, and poetry. Every year, Austin hosts a literary science fiction / fantasy convention called ArmadilloCon. This year’s venue was the Renaissance Hotel in the Arboretum. Almost 400 people attended this year; there were also several dozen authors and poets; and over 30 artists including John Picacio (see http://www.johnpicacio.com/ ).
The art show boasted 595 works of art: somewhat over a quarter of the con-goers bid on the art, with prices from $1 to $1000. My wife actually bid on 7 of the cheaper items, winning 5, and looked longingly at another four before deciding to not spend the money. A hundred of us voted on the art and artists we liked best. Julie Dillon did quite well at the Art Show, winning three awards including Best in Show (see www.juliedillonart.com for examples of her work). Victoria Shipman and David Pancake also won awards.
The 2012 Writer’s Workshop had 28 students enrolled (all photos by Gary Lee Webb).
My major interest was in learning to write better. So Sharon and I went a day early, and attended the writer’s workshop: 28 students being taught by 18 pros. Each student had submitted up to 5000 words of unpublished material. In my case, I submitted the immediate sequel to “A Dish Served Cold” (Page 38 of the July 2012 issue of Bohemia; see http://www.bohemia-journal.com/electronic-copies to check it out on-line). Sharon submitted the first 5000 words of an 8000-word story called “Adoption”. We spent the morning discussing generic advice for new writers and participating in various exercises. We then spent a working lunch and afternoon split into smaller groups: 4-5 new writers and up to three pros.
Two weeks before the workshop, everyone in the smaller group had received the submissions from each of the students in the group. These we were tasked to review. I was amazed at the depth of the comments I received: approximately 2500 words, generally quite positive. It *will* take me some time to assimilate all that, but I can already see ways I may improve my writing. I appreciate the time spent by my fellow students (Thomas Burbridge, Aaron DaMommio, Leigh Berggren Reinhart) and the professionals leading us (Melissa Tyler and Martin T. Wagner). One advantage of this approach is that I received five stylistically very different reviews, and while they were often making similar comments, they focused on different aspects.
Experienced con-goers know to visit the Con Suite: good food and interesting people. A tri-corder is useful if you are watching your weight.
Besides the writer’s workshop itself, I attempted to get to as many panels on writing as I could . I also caught readings by several authors, visited the Con Suite and some of the evening bid parties, and bought several things in the “huxter” room (a/k/a, the dealer’s room). Some panels I just attended for fun, but even those turned out to be interesting. For example, there was a panel amounting to an hour of poetry readings by six poets, led by Juan Perez. Talking with Juan afterwords, I found out that he is looking for poets to fill 8 hours of time at the 2013 World Science Fiction Convention: is anyone interested in having a *large* audience, next year?
In short, I had a blast, and I think I learned a lot. I spent some time with old friends, and met some new ones. While I am looking forward to the much bigger convention in 13 months (25 times as many people at the world con!), I am also looking forward to future writer’s workshops and the annual ArmadilloCon.
L-R: Poets Juan Perez, David Chang, Tess Mallory, Jamie Lee Moyer, Steven Utley, and Rie Sheridan Rose read their work for us.
As anyone who has been to my house knows, I have a house full of books. My living room is lined with books; I have back to back shelving in the den, and various other rooms have book cases. Moreover, I have books in English, Spanish, French, German, Russian, Dutch, Qartuli, and Latin (not all of which I currently read), not to mention dictionaries and grammars in several other languages. Why do I love books so?
Some of my doubly-stacked bookshelves in the living room. Even the chess table is covered !
I was blessed to grow up in a house full of books. I grew up believing that we should all read, and read a lot. After all, my parents did. Moreover, when I was five, my eight-year-old cousin Diana gave me 300 “Little Golden Books” that she had outgrown. I was delighted: I had books of my own! That day a bibliophile was born, and I have been one ever since.
Last week, I wrote about collecting to the point of hoarding, however, there is another side to the hoarding coin – collecting – specifically book collecting. Since Bohemians are, by nature, creative individuals, books must play an important role in every Bohemian’s life.
Furthermore, book collecting doesn’t require a lot of time, money or expertise – it does require book cases! A few easy steps can get anyone started on this interesting hobby.
They may not quite be Bohemians, but next year 10,000 of some of the most eclectic people I know shall invade Texas. Yes, the World Science Fiction Convention returns to San Antonio after a 15 year hiatus, Thursday 29 August 2013 through Monday 2 September (Labor Day). The 2011 world con (in Reno, Nevada) had over 1500 hours of programming (running concurrently in 30+ venues) for 5000 people; I anticipate about 3000 hours of programming for this one. Unfortunately, I cannot be in 10 places at once.
Greetings! I’m Megan, Bohemia’s newest blogger. Call me Meg – so as not to confuse me with Meagan Smith, a fine blogger in her own write (see here: http://bohojo.wordpress.com/2012/06/18/gift-of-love-meagan-smith/).
This is the year of new beginnings (and some sad farewells). Newly retired, my husband and I are turning our lives inside out and are going to attempt to live the dream – traveling around the U.S., working when we can, and living the Bohemian lifestyle. For me, this means finally having time to write and do all of the creative stuff that I’ve been putting off (more on that later).
At the moment we are in mid-transition. Chucking, selling, storing, donating; every single object in our lives requires a decision (and being packrats, there are a lot of them). Some of those decisions have led to unexpected soul-searching. This is particularly true in regard to family heirlooms and books.
At my packrat peak I had eleven bookshelves. I estimate that I had read about a third of the books therein. Why keep the ones I’ve read? The closest I can come to an answer is that having read them they became friends, which made them hard to part with. As for the unread ones, they were largely there because I had read a good review, or the dust jacket made them sound interesting, or I was familiar with other works by the author, or they were classics that I felt I should read to be well-rounded. Cut me, and I bleed books.
Yes, getting rid of the books was hard, and I wasn’t altogether successful.
The heirlooms, which I have dragged across the country and half of Texas, were oddly easier. I can’t say why but I was able to give up pieces of my grandmother’s furniture with very little struggle. Ten years ago I might have thrown myself across Great Uncle Billy’s trunk and said “No, I can’t possibly part with it”. But that was then, and this is now. I’ve spent more time wondering about my new-found facility to part with these things than the actual partings themselves.
For all the stuff we have gotten rid of, I can’t say that I miss any of it, or find myself reaching for things that aren’t there anymore. There’s a grand irony at work here, because my last job involved making public lectures on our wasteful consumer society. It seems I’m really walking my talk at last. It will be interesting to see in months to come how my naturally acquisitive nature (I <heart> garage sales and thrift stores) will do battle with our new Spartan lifestyle. All I can say so far is this feels healthier.
From Useless Stuff to Use Less Stuff. Now if I can only get it to work with chocolate.
I was sad to hear on KWBU on my way to work this morning that TSTC announced that it will close its publishing division at in August. When I first moved to Waco, I was impressed that such a small school as TSTC had a publishing division, and even enjoyed reading one title by a local author: Bradley Turner’s Lust, Violence, Religion: Life in Historic Waco. In fact, the Waco Tribune-Herald reported today that it was the only two-year college with a publishing house in the country.
This summer, I recommend that you read (or reread) these classics.
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley The Hunger Games has popularized dystopian literature again, see The Giver by Lois Lowry, Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card, and 1984 by George Orwell. I enjoy this genre, and Brave New World is my favorite. The powers that be have done their best to squelch human passions in order to prevent war, but at what cost?
“When the individual feels, the community reels.”
Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger Catcher in the Rye resounds with the poignancy of youthful alienation and restlessness, an affliction that has inspired art through the ages in movies, music like punk rock, and literature like The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, and even Harry Potter. Houlden Caulfield wanders around New York City upset and emotionally lost wearing a red hunting hat.
“I don’t even know what I was running for – I guess I just felt like it.”
“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”
― Madeleine L’Engle
It was a dark and stormy night. Thus begins one of my favourite young adult novels, A Wrinkle in Time. The book just celebrated its fiftieth anniversary, its place cemented as a masterpiece in children’s literary canons. Alas, Madeleine L’Engle did not live to see the book’s milestone, but her indelible impression on young imaginations lives on.
The novel’s plot is impeccably odd. Take a family with world-class scientist parents, an awkward eldest girl, twins, and a prodigious 5-year-old boy with a mouthful of a name, and you have the Murry family. Now throw quantum physics, philosophy, time and space travel, and several very quirky characters together, and you have a story.
I have always loved L’Engle’s insight about children being able to understand what grown-ups cannot. Supposedly, the author initially had trouble finding a publisher to take on the book. What is it about L’Engle’s writing that allows children to embrace it so freely? First of all, children aren’t caught up in the logic of the plot. When L’Engle sets up a world with tesseracts and alternate planets, young readers don’t stumble over this, but accept it and focus on the characters’ emotions and development.
She also taps so well into the psyche of childhood. As a girl, I spent lots of time outside where every physical detail—trees, rain, secret hiding places—tugged wildly at my imagination. In my mind, everything was a gateway to a story. L’Engle throws the gate wide open.
As I read and write less than I used to, I wonder if I am too much of a grown-up. Has my ability to perceive the world suffered because of it?
L’Engle examines some weighty spiritual questions in A Wrinkle in Time, with themes of light and dark, good and evil. As with fiction, spirituality can be very difficult for some adults to grasp. The Book of Luke writes, “I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Faith, like fantasy, doesn’t add up logically sometimes.
I’m not a kid up a tree anymore, but I sure do miss the simplicity. It looks like I may have some growing young to do.
Pinterest has been hailed as a playground for the visual– for photography, art, and fashion. However, I’d like to claim a corner of it for literature. If you’re surfing the ‘net late at night, meander your way through several of these boards, or consider starting one of your own:
Source: contentinacottage.blogspot.com via Scholastic on Pinterest
Source: list.co.uk via Mandy on Pinterest
Whether you’re pinning to your own page or simply looking in from the outside, I encourage you to take a brief look at an ancient art through a modern lens. You never know what you could find, like collection of typography moustaches.
Source: flickr.com via Mandy on Pinterest
Ever wonder why Smurfette is the only female Smurf in a male-dominated race? Me neither! So, instead, let me ramble on about my fascination with horror movies, stories and the like. I can remember being a wee lad and having a fierce appetite for scary movies, monsters, ghouls, goblins, and any other disfigured miscreants. Maybe it was the fact that my birthday falls so close to Halloween, or that growing up in the 80′s there was an influx within this genre, no matter, it was and still is an obsession. Every Halloween for I don’t know how many years I was Dracula. You couldn’t pay me to stop wearing those plastic fangs the days leading up to, or several days following the event. I loved ghost stories, I loved make-believe, and the fact that you couldn’t argue with that which you couldn’t prove. For instance, there was a house (like in everyone’s neighborhood or small town) where a “witch” lived. Was there really a witch who lived in the dilapidated abode with the unkempt vines, un-manicured lawn, chipping paint, torn curtains, an infestation or feral cats, and a foul odor wafting from that general direction? No, but did you see that? I could have sworn I saw someone looking through that window out at me! And who could contend with paranoia?
Growing up on the Texas Gulf Coast, in the county that once held our State’s first capital, a land grant from Stephen F. Austin, it is riddle with Texas history. A history that has known it’s fair share of death. Be it the many plantations in the area that bred hard life and struggle, the scattered battlefields where bloody wars were enacted for independence, or the brutality of the occasional hurricane that brought death and despair to the region. The landscape, in itself, has a very foreboding look to it. Great-big, drooping oaks, draped in grey beards of spanish moss, looking as though they would swallow whole anything that dare walk within their ancient grasps. Thick, overgrown woods littered with the fanned tines of thousands of Palmetto plants, and reaking with the damp aroma of decaying underbrush. Woods that whisper when you walk through them alone. Muddy rivers and creeks, boggy and bloated from the seemingly endless rains that drench our coastal towns. These are the locales that breathed life into the haunting tales of my childhood. One of my all-time favorite ghost story books of all time just so happens to have been written about my county, by a local historian and writer by the name of Katherine Munson. Her book, Ghosts Along the Brazos is an account of terrifying tales, spooky specters, and ghastly ghosts that have been passed down and around the campfires for many generations, some tales even predating the Civil War. Mrs. Munson, in her elder years would come by our public library in the days leading up to Halloween for a special reading of her twisted tales, and we’d all gather closely, sitting on the carpet of the old Brazoria Public Library to listen to these stories.
I could go on and on about how I rented every scary movie on the shelves of the local movie store, or how a friend that I grew up with, that lived across from the cemetery had himself convinced that he was, indeed, a vampire, but, as this is just a blog, and I’ve successfully rambled-on for quite long enough, I’ll close shortly. Horror is for sure my favorite genre of film, and my book shelves are adorned with ghostly fiction, and non-fiction alike. And I would say that these influences have found their way into much of my artwork, and at times, my photography. It’s safe to say that my fondness won’t be weakening anytime soon. I’d say I’ve merely scratched the surface. At any rate, I’m still a kid when it comes to the paranormal things, and it’s comforting to cling to some things that keep you youthful at heart. So let’s all embrace our inner paranoia, and look twice over our shoulders when walking to our vehicles in that darkened parking lot, lets investigate that strange sound coming from that seemingly empty room or attic, and by all means DO say “Hello, who’s there” when you think that you may not be alone! That is all for now. Stay spooked, my friends!
I am such a sucker for secondhand books, whether they are borrowed, bought, or found. I can browse shiny covers in a Barnes & Noble and never buy anything, but surround me with musty, eclectic used books, and I can’t leave the store without an armload.
Twice-loved books
There was a secondhand bookstore I loved in downtown Colorado Springs called Poor Richard’s that was connected to a café, pizzeria with an unmatched wine and tisane bar, and old-school toy store. I had several classes held there, and yes, it was the perfect recipe for never leaving the place without a new/old book in hand.
This weekend, the mother of all secondhand book sales is going on in Waco. It’s called Friends of the Waco-McLennan County Library Book Sale. Last year when my husband and I decided to stop by, we didn’t quite know what we were getting ourselves into. We entered a side building of the Extraco Events Center to what we considered a large room of book stands, about the size of a normal community bookstore, with sections set aside for specialty and children’s books. We spent about 10 minutes browsing before passing into THE room, a warehouse-like room about three times the size of the previous one filled from wall to wall with used library books and other donated treasures. Some attendees had showed up with suitcases to fill with books.
We left about two hours later with two large paper sacks. Our total? $19.
The book prices range from $1-$4 and are mainly arranged by genre. It truly is a bibliophile’s dream. All I can say is, go. If you love to read, go. If you haven’t got much money to spend, go. The sale goes on until Sunday– last year, they even had a special deal “all you could carry” deal for a flat fee on the last day.
Will I bring a suitcase this year? I’m not ruling it out.
Thursday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Friday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Saturday – 10am-7pm
Sunday – 12 noon-6pm
I am such a sucker for secondhand books, whether they are borrowed, bought, or found. I can browse shiny covers in a Barnes & Noble and never buy anything, but surround me with musty, eclectic used books, and I can’t leave the store without an armload.
Twice-loved books
There was a secondhand bookstore I loved in downtown Colorado Springs called Poor Richard’s that was connected to a café, pizzeria with an unmatched wine and tisane bar, and old-school toy store. I had several classes held there, and yes, it was the perfect recipe for never leaving the place without a new/old book in hand.
This weekend, the mother of all secondhand book sales is going on in Waco. It’s called Friends of the Waco-McLennan County Library Book Sale. Last year when my husband and I decided to stop by, we didn’t quite know what we were getting ourselves into. We entered a side building of the Extraco Events Center to what we considered a large room of book stands, about the size of a normal community bookstore, with sections set aside for specialty and children’s books. We spent about 10 minutes browsing before passing into THE room, a warehouse-like room about three times the size of the previous one filled from wall to wall with used library books and other donated treasures. Some attendees had showed up with suitcases to fill with books.
We left about two hours later with two large paper sacks. Our total? $19.
The book prices range from $1-$4 and are mainly arranged by genre. It truly is a bibliophile’s dream. All I can say is, go. If you love to read, go. If you haven’t got much money to spend, go. The sale goes on until Sunday– last year, they even had a special deal “all you could carry” deal for a flat fee on the last day.
Will I bring a suitcase this year? I’m not ruling it out.
Thursday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Friday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Saturday – 10am-7pm
Sunday – 12 noon-6pm
I am such a sucker for secondhand books, whether they are borrowed, bought, or found. I can browse shiny covers in a Barnes & Noble and never buy anything, but surround me with musty, eclectic used books, and I can’t leave the store without an armload.
Twice-loved books
There was a secondhand bookstore I loved in downtown Colorado Springs called Poor Richard’s that was connected to a café, pizzeria with an unmatched wine and tisane bar, and old-school toy store. I had several classes held there, and yes, it was the perfect recipe for never leaving the place without a new/old book in hand.
This weekend, the mother of all secondhand book sales is going on in Waco. It’s called Friends of the Waco-McLennan County Library Book Sale. Last year when my husband and I decided to stop by, we didn’t quite know what we were getting ourselves into. We entered a side building of the Extraco Events Center to what we considered a large room of book stands, about the size of a normal community bookstore, with sections set aside for specialty and children’s books. We spent about 10 minutes browsing before passing into THE room, a warehouse-like room about three times the size of the previous one filled from wall to wall with used library books and other donated treasures. Some attendees had showed up with suitcases to fill with books.
We left about two hours later with two large paper sacks. Our total? $19.
The book prices range from $1-$4 and are mainly arranged by genre. It truly is a bibliophile’s dream. All I can say is, go. If you love to read, go. If you haven’t got much money to spend, go. The sale goes on until Sunday– last year, they even had a special deal “all you could carry” deal for a flat fee on the last day.
Will I bring a suitcase this year? I’m not ruling it out.
Thursday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Friday – 10am-9pm – no sales tax!
Saturday – 10am-7pm
Sunday – 12 noon-6pm
One of my earliest memories is walking with my mother as she pushed a stroller with my sister. Our destination was the Kensington Branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia. In addition to reading to me in my earliest years, my mother took me on frequent visits to the local library.
In the summer between fourth and fifth grade, I joined the Summer Reading Club at the branch. The goal was to read ten books in the summer and write ten book reports. That day, I was introduced to the children’s librarian, Marie Guertin, or Miss Marie as we called her. She had the softest voice and the gentlest smile. I credit Miss Marie with introducing me to a whole world of books outside the ones in my home.
Adventures of a Brownie, Carcajou, King Arthur, The Big Wheel, and Mr. Popper’s Penguins, are only a few of the ones I remember and have found copies to add to my library. Unfortunately, the last is about to be shredded by Hollywood. Even the bits I have heard on TV tell me the story will be distorted beyond all recognition. Don’t even get me started on the casting.
Anyway, back to those earliest memories.
Each September, Miss Marie would come to my school and distribute the certificates for the students who had successfully completed the summer program. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for even one of those certificates to turn up!
A real schoolboy crush on Miss Marie developed, and I looked forward to my frequent visits to the library. Even when I went to high school, the branch was only one station before mine on the el, and I almost always stopped off for a visit. Miss Marie always welcomed me and asked about what I was reading. She told me about some of the books she was recommending to students those years.
Fast forward to about 1988. I was teaching a class on drama to a group of senior citizens at the Cottman Avenue Branch of the library. One day, I wandered into the children’s library, which was right next to my classroom. Seated at a desk was Miss Marie. I was stunned. Her hair was now white, but she still had that soft voice and smile. I chatted with her for a while about the old days, but alas, the class was ending, and I did not get back to Cottman Avenue after that chance encounter.
My family still lives in Philly, so on every one of my frequent visits, I made a mental note to stop and see if she was still there. I must have forgotten to press save, because I never made the trip.
Fast forward again to 2011. I was determined that my visit this time would include the branch to see if anyone knew anything about Miss Marie. One of the children’s librarians remembered her, and to my surprise, she thought she was still alive and living in a nursing home somewhere in Philadelphia. She promised to see if she could find out about her for me, so I left my cell number with a hope that I would hear from her.
So far, no call, but every time the phone rings, I anxiously look for a 215 area code. Stay tuned. I am not giving up on this one.
