NOT BUYING BOOKS

By Catriona

My book buying embargo (until I've read at least half of what's on my TBR shelf, or until Left Coast, whichever comes first) is beginning to bite. So a weekend of libraries seemed perfect.

It kicked off at the palatial San Leandro Public Library on Saturday afternoon:

It's a gorgeous facility, with a theatre, a cafe and a thriving FoL bookshop as well as the collections. I didn't buy any books. I was very proud of myself. 

I was there for a mystery panel comprising Eileen Rendahl, Gigi Pandian, Terry Shames and me:

ably wrangled by librarian Marry Rudd and volunteer Christine

No idea what the audience got from it all, but I left the library inspired and energised. BUT I didn't buy any of Eileen, Terry, or Gigi's books. To be fair, I've got most of them already, but I'm counting that as willpower.

From there it was straight to the airport and off to Seattle for the American Library Association Winter Meeting. I stayed out of Hudson Books at both Oakland and Seatac (mostly because I had two hardbacks with me anyway, but it's still another win, right?)

After a comfortable night in the downtown Sheraton (Thanks, Midnight Ink. Gone but still paying for hotel rooms.), it was off to the expo and a lovely day of fangirling librarians: public librarians, school librarians, college librarians, students of library science, and one wizard activist, who translates the social themes of Harry Potter into life lessons for learning-challenged kids. Best Job In World. 

I signed a stack of GO TO MY GRAVEs at the Macmillan booth:

And then a stack of SCOT AND SODA ARCs at the Llewellyn booth:

And nearly completely failed to take pictures, except this one with Minotaur's Talia:

Then I had two hours to spare, on a huge exhibit floor, where publicists were literally pressing books into people's hands as I walked past, muttering about a book embargo and trying not to catch anyone's eye.

And then reminding myself that it's a book BUYING embargo and those poor publicists would only get a tea-break when their hands were empty.  

And also reminding myself that I had space for two in my case since I had brought a couple of large-prints to give to librarians.

Long story short:

But in my defence, four books is incredibly restrained: one of them had been hand-picked for me by the Llewellyn publicist; one of them was being waved in my face by Rudi from SoHo, who I met at Bloody Scotland and is set in San Francisco; one of them's a debut (and the apple-cheeked baby novelist needed support); and one's an Alafair Burke ARC and I'm only human.

I'd love to hear your rationalisations for new books you swore you wouldn't add to your shelves. I know it's not just me . . . 

 

 

 

Comments

[Aimee Hix]

I need no rationalizations. Books are life!

[Margie Bunting]

It's an ailment for which there is no cure, a sweet addiction. I get most of my books from two libraries, so I shouldn't have to buy books, but . . . it feels so good. Honestly, I try to buy only books that don't seem to be available in the library. But that doesn't explain my very full Kindle queue (they were extra-inexpensive?).

[Mark]

I don't even try any more. I just buy.