book stores

I was so sad today (holiday sadness) and was at a bookstore thinking “oh this isn’t so bad” about being in a bookstore– read a couple pages of a couple books and thought oh so that’s what that book’s like, all distant and not judgey and not busy comparing what I like and am to what was on the shelves.  I have have had a lot of days I loved in used bookstores, but honestly, unless it’s a store with art or object books that are just great objects, new book stores are pretty much utilitarian to me– I want to go get something I’m looking for or ordered and not linger.  Almost every mood leads to disaster.  I like an old raggedy bookstore that is organized but isn’t catering too hard to anyone or guessing too hard who you are.  I miss this one I went to sometimes in western virginia– these cases in one room with old amazing editions and then these other rooms with piles everywhere but also some actual sections & alphabets.  I feel part of that kind of book world and alien in almost every other.

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