Buying Books

On Sunday, after going to a movie, I spent about two hours wandering around Barnes & Noble. For Christmas, I got a gift card and I still haven't used it.

It sat by my phone in its little holder thing for about a month. One day, I thought I'd use it, so I pulled it out and put it in my pocket. That day, I was distracted by something, who can remember such things, and ended up not going to the bookstore. When I got back to my apartment and emptied my pockets, I decided that the best way for me to spend the money on the card would be to put it in my wallet. So I did. And there it has sat.

On Saturday, I took a walk. North to no where in particular. I was sort of on a quest to find the house that appeared in Pollyanna; I didn't know exactly where it is, just a general location, which was fine since my main goal was to just get out and move. myPod in my pocket and headphones on, I headed out the door and walked. After a while, I'm not sure how long, I turned and walked east and when I got tired of that I headed south because I knew south would take me to familiar ground. I saw many houses that were probably built at the turn of the century (one of which may have been the Pollyanna house, but I haven't seen the movie in a long time, so I couldn't have recognized it), many more that were built in the fifties and sixties, and was glared at by many people just my general aimlessness as I moved. Eventually, I ended up on Fourth Street and followed it into the downtown area.

On my left was Barnes & Noble. I decided to head in. I started to wander, picking up a book to glance at here and straightening a shelf there, but felt very uncomfortable. Not anxious, exactly, but bad. My head started aching and many parts of my system were screaming for me to get out. I did. I hurried, but didn't run, out and crossed the street without worrying about which direction the traffic moved. Before I knew where I was going, I turned the corner onto the street where my apartment is.

Sunday, I woke up earlier than I wanted to. Sure, the clock show 8:30, but I knew, inside, that it was really 7:30. I puttered around my apartment, cleaned up some comics, showered, things I often lazily do on Sundays. At some point, hours later, I decided I wanted popcorn for breakfast, and the best way to get popcorn, even though I have stuff that can be zapped and one of those cool stove-top poppers, was to go see a movie. I called the theater and listened to the list of movies and choose one that I thought could be interesting and also started soonish so I wouldn't be too hungry when I got there.

The movie got out a little after two and I didn't want to go back to my apartment. I thought I'd try the bookstore again. At best, I thought I'd find a way to spend my gift cart. At worst, I'd end up like the day before and leave.

Artfully, I dodged the contingent of Girl Scouts and their militant parents standing outside, hocking their disks of sugar, and went inside.

First I perused the books on clearance. The Barnes & Noble here doesn't have much in the way of novels on clearance and what it does have tend to be things I don't really enjoy reading, like mystery and thriller books. There were some fantasy books in there, but they were by authors who are problematic for me, most notably among them is David Eddings. There was a Neal Stephenson book in there; it may have been a The Baroque Cycle book, but I didn't see those words on the cover. Plus, I though the Waterhouse family in Cryptonomicon was some of the most boring stuff in the book, so why buy a book that stars one of them from the 1700s interest me?

Then I wandered through the tables with books placed on top. Most of them were in the trade style and none of the tables were completely covered. There were some interesting covers, but the only things that really popped out to me were books that I'd already read.

From there I moved into general fiction. I wandered up and down the aisles with no purpose. I looked, read author names and titles of books, and picked a few up to read the description and check the price. Nearly all the books in that section are trade size. There were several that looked interesting. I weaved my way through the section and worked my way out.

Into the science fiction/fantasy section I plunged. I started with authors I like to see what they have in paperback that I haven't read. Then I tried to find books that I'm missing and want. Then I just looked.

Next I wandered over to the humor section. There, I found The Complete Far Side and The Complete Calvin and Hobbes. Each set is $150. They sure looked beautiful, though. There were also several The Complete Peanuts books, but not the third and I don't want to go out of sequence. Silly as that may seem.

I looked at the new stuff and best sellers and crosswords and audio books. I imagined myself as a mighty chef as I leafed through the cook books. And I wondered why I shouldn't spend the money on a really nice, leather bound journal that I'd probably never write in.

Eventually, I found my way back to the fiction section and started thinking about what I should buy. Should I buy a couple of the fiction trade books at $12 or $13 a pop? That'd spend the card and I had some cash that would have covered the tax. How about some pocket sized sci-fi? That'd be three book. Or maybe use it to take a small chunk out of a big purchase? I could do that.

But if I do one of the first two, or mix the genres, what do I buy? Do I buy things by authors I know I like by haven't read? Do I buy things by someone I haven't read before, but think may be interesting? How do I narrow it down to just a few? And will I have time to read them?

I left the store. My hands were as empty as when I came in.

That was when I realized how slow of a read I've turned into recently. I used to finish a book a week, at least. Usually two or more. Now, I struggle to finish one in a week and a half. The one I'm reading now I've been on for two weeks already. I'll be finished in a day, but a 675 page novel in two weeks is way longer than it used to take me. I think it's because I don't have a comfortable place to read.

The choices in my apartment are: my bed, the wooden chair I use at my computer, a horribly uncomfortable futon, and the floor. When I was last at my parents' house, I spent most of one day reading. (Exciting, I know.) I moved from couch to chair and back. I sat up. I slouched. I rolled onto my back and then my side, sometimes propped up by the arm rest, some times not. That day, I finished one book and got around 200 pages into another.

It was a good day for reading.

I'd like more of those.