Thursday, July 08, 2010


Bookmen's holiday

Three book bloggers in one room, in rural Maine - what are the chances? Apparently good, when two of them (Ian and Malcolm) kindly go out of their way to track down a reclusive third (yours truly) at her home. A fourth should have traveled here with them but circumstances dictated otherwise, and his presence was deeply missed. Yet, what a rare afternoon we managed to have, talking and looking over books, some fine and not-so-fine, some scarce and medium rare, and some quite common yet somehow loved best of all. It was wonderful to express bookish enthusiasms in person, aloud. Usually they reside among the quieter kinds of happiness, the internal ones, unspoken. Sometimes written, but not that often. And certainly not always among people who completely understand. Because they have it as bad as I do, if not worse, that book-love we suffer from so willingly.

Do you believe that two of the three of us also collect booksellers' tickets? I wonder about the fourth, I've never asked him. (Consider that a leading question, my dear, if you happen to read this.) Even higher odds. I ask you.

Ian has a few photos on his blog, of our visit and the rest of their day. Looking at these, I knew I wasn't the only stop on their bookmen's tour of the downeast coast, but it certainly seems as if I should have politely requested that they stop here first. And then not so politely demanded that they bring me along! Perhaps next time.

Thank you, bookmen. I will treasure the memory of the two of you here. Would that it could have been three of you. Let's make sure it's not the only time such a thing ever happens.

ARGH! How did we not think of that! Next time, we will definitely pick you up ("Hey, BookGrrl, wanna go check out some bindings?").

Such a pleasure to see you. Soon, again, for certain.
I know! I won't hold it against you, since it didn't even occur to me as an option until I wrote this post. Next time, however, you will not escape so easily.

BookGrrl, hee hee. BookGrrls do love leather bindings. Better stop right there. This sounds decidedly risqué, which I am decidedly not.
At the risk of sounding a bit melodramatic, I COULD THROW MYSELF ON THE GROUND AND CRY. How I envy you book people in Maine. I've been a faithful reader of your (Sarah's), Ian's, and Eric's/Malcolm's blogs for several years. They are consistently interesting, and I always walk away with at least one (usually much more) new item of bookish information to file away in my head as I continue to collect books and book-related items out here in the boondocks of the Midwest. Thanks (I think) for sharing your recent get-together. For me, I guess a vicarious thrill is better than no thrill at all. Jan
Jan, thank you for your lovely comment from one set of boondocks (I just typed bookdocks by mistake, have I coined a new term...?) to another! Yes, it was a wonderful confluence, but bittersweet since Eric was unable to be here too. He does know he was deeply missed, and I don't mind saying so one more time.

Come to Maine, we always have room for more bibliophiles. I know I sound like a place-proud ambassador, but I love Maine so much!
The fourth tells me he DOES collect booksellers' tickets, I am happy to be able to say. So Ian, c'mon man, get with the program!
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