Better an Unread Book than an Unworn Sock

     I try not to buy too many books for myself or my children.  Our bookshelves are full and we raid our local library every two weeks, checking out fifty books at a time.  This has something to do with being "green," but even more to do with being cheap, so please don't tell me to buy an e-reader instead!  As a wannabe first novelist, I feel like a hypocrite.  Why should I expect anyone to buy my (as yet unpublished) book if I don't consider their books worth buying--even when I desperately want to read them?  

    Here's a confession: in my last blog post, I referred to Mona Simpson's compelling novel, My Hollywood, but I have only read the first third.  It was a great read, and it made the two hours I had to kill at the Stamford, Connecticut Barnes and Noble store before catching a train so delightful.  Since my return from that trip the week after Labor Day, I have been on the DC Public Library waiting list for the book, starting off at number nine.  Since users can check out books for three weeks and renew for another three, it's not a surprise that the list goes slowly.  Just when I was thinking of asking for Simpson's book for Hanukkah (we celebrate Christmas too, but that's weeks later this year), I discovered today that I jumped up to number two on the list, apparently because the library system bought more copies.  Even if I haven't supported Simpson directly, I console myself with the knowledge that my hold request helped to convince the library of demand for her book.  And the patrons who let the book sit around on their nightstands for six weeks probably helped Simpson's cause even more. 

    I'm not too cheap to buy books for other people, especially when I want to impose my literary tastes on them.  Unfortunately, no one on my holiday gift-giving list seems right for My Hollywood, but I will keep in mind this plea on the blog of Chuck Sambucchino, the editor of The Guide to Literary Agents, encouraging us to make books our standard gift in order to support the publishing industry.  He advocates asking family and friends for lists of books and magazines they want, but many of us shy away from such a pragmatic approach.  The whole idea of gift-giving is that you are supposed to come up with great ideas on your own.  That's why aged aunts are famous for giving itchy, ugly socks and other items that no one wants or uses.  Nobody strives to be a clueless gift-giver, but if you just don't know what to buy someone and you want to save the publishing industry, then console yourself with the knowledge that an unread book is better than an unworn sock.

Comments

[Kelly Hand]

By the way, I did read My Hollywood and enjoyed it a great deal!