I picked up armloads of science fiction and fantasy here in the early 80s. Better selection that B. Dalton’s. And with a branch in the local strip mall, it was easier for middle-school me to get to than faraway Shinders or Uncle Hugo’s, both of which were rare, special visits.
The most recent version I have, and the last for this series. Some friends sent me an envelope full of these in 2018, a few years after I had moved away.
The villain sweeps on stage and strikes a pose. We boo uproariously.
He basks in it, studying his fingernails, with the occasional imperious side-eye to the audience.
We love to hate him, and hate to love him. He’s the reason why the show is sold out for the whole run.
From the last days of the Hungry Mind. After selling their name to a short-lived online school, they rebranded, expanded into Open Book, then closed a few years later.
This wasn’t how the story was supposed to end, but this is apparently how the story usually ends.
We’re over two months into my bookmark tour. I have four envelopes stuffed with bookmarks, including one filled with dozens from Powells alone.
So… what am I using in the book I’m reading right now?
Yep:
File Under: “The Cobbler’s Children Go Barefoot”
📚 What I finished this week.
The First Kiss apple debuted at the State Fair two years ago. (For those out west, the Rave is the same apple.) After looking in vain for it last fall, I spotted some at the grocery store today. It’s an extremely fragrant Honeycrisp with a bit more tartness. So good!
This turned up in a used book I bought in Salt Lake City, or possibly Santa Fe.
I wandered in during their first anniversary in May of ’96 and was instantly ensorcelled. I appeared in their short-lived lit mag, read at their open mics, and bought and sold tons of books.
Any closed bookstore is sad, but this one was especially hard.
🔗 America Has Two Feet. It’s About to Lose One of Them.
Up to now, people who said there was only one foot didn’t have a leg to stand on. But the shoe’s on the other foot now!
A bookmark labelled bookmark from a bookstore called The Book Store. Reminds me of the yellow and black generic brands from the early 80s.
Based on its address and the bookmarks’ colors, this was possibly an earlier incarnation of SJSU’s campus bookstore.
I love this place.
(I did a doubletake when I saw the cover of Franzen’s How to Be Alone, not only because it’s a shot of Three Lives as Archetypal Indie Bookstore, but also because — who the hell bends back the front cover of a book like that before they’ve even bought it?)
From sometime in the mid ’00s.
Ray Bradbury, 100 today.
My Premature Autobiography, written when he was 21.
In the strip mall across the street from the original Cheapo. I assume it must have been connected to the BookSmart in Uptown, but I don’t remember for sure. Was this its original location?
(And this bookmark is so old, an area code was necessary.)
You crawl under your desk to plug something in, and you take a minute to tidy the cables, and then you think: Maybe I’ll just stay down here for the rest of the day. Can I do that?
Exquisite used shop. An astonishingly broad selection for a place the size of my living room, ranging from the scholarly to the pulp. Great name, too. And so we beat on…
