When I went to the library the other day, I noticed they were holding their quarterly book sale this weekend.
So after my shower and some coffee, I head off to the sale.
Run into a few book-loving freaks like myself that I know.
I'm only sort of half with it from the sleepless night and I don't have the time to do any real serious browsing.
I hit up the basics: poetry, biographies, fiction.
The poetry section is weak and blurred together with drama and classics. I don't see any City Lights Pocket Poetry Series chapbooks (easily identifiable by their size) so I head off to biographies hoping to find a good one by Nick Tosches (on Sonny Liston or Dean Martin specifically) but find no such luck. Browse the fiction. See a Jim Harrision book - Dalva - which I'm convinced I already have in hardback, this one here is soft cover.
So I pass on it.
Oftentimes, I'm so fixated on trying to land a certain score that I end up buying it twice. I've done this with records many times.
I go back to biographies one last time before I leave. Along the way I spot Kem Nunn's THE DOGS OF WINTER which I recently read and it was one of the best books I consumed in quite some time.
I pick it up because it is hardcover and vow to send/give my soft cover copy to someone in the near future.
Back I biographies, I spot one on Kenneth Rexroth - who is one of the grandaddies of San Francisco's epic Beat lit scene - and pick it up.
I had just gotten an email from a friend of mine about how I was a great American poet after he discovered a long lost stash of poems I'd sent him years ago.
He is an archivalist.
He keeps everything.
Ironically, this was on the same day that I felt compelled to go to the library and read poetry. I felt it was my duty to keep the synergy going and take the Nunn and Rexroth books to the checkout.
It cost me $2.
Turns out I don't have DALVA