Yep. It's that time again. Time for my library's semiannual used book sale! I got some good ones tonight.
In the past I have complained about the complete absence of books by Murakami and issues of McSweeney's at these sales. Not this time! I got a copy of Murakami's IQ84. Yes, it was withdrawn from my library, meaning that no one in my zip code wanted to read it, but I can take the jacket off, tear out the bar code page, and pretend that it is just like new. And I need to come to terms with the fact that I should send Dave Eggers more money and buy McSweeney's, because those are clearly *never* going to show up at this sale.
Jess Walters, which I had never even heard of before; A Secret Kept by Tatiana DeRosnay, which I can hardly wait to start; Super Sad True Love Story by Gary Shteyngart; and The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb by Melanie Benjamin.
Finally (and worth the wait) I got a hard cover copy of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. Somehow, I have never even seen a hard cover copy of this book before, and it's my very favorite. A while back I met JSF, and he signed my son's copy of Extremely Loud. I have an unsigned paperback, but I'm happy to have the hard cover too.
And now, I'm off to read . . . By the way, but totally off topic, my son says that he had a dream last night that I was a famous author. Isn't that a great dream? I love it. Now to get him thinking of being an author himself . . .
Listening to: OK. I broke down. AM radio was driving me crazy, and FM radio was in constant repeat mode. I'm listening to The Thousand Autumns of Jacob DeZoet by David Mitchell. I have holds on Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt in both audio and paper form at the library, but haven't gotten either one. Since I already own Autumns on paper, I figured that if I get Wolves on audio, I'll stop listening, and just read Autumns. If I get the paper version of Wolves, I'll keep listening to Autumns. Whatever.
Still Reading: The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebovitz