You ever tell someone about a television show that you really enjoy, and they say, “Oh, I started watching the first, and couldn’t finish it, it was so ridiculous.”
Kind of a downer, isn’t it?
Happens with books, too.
The Australian Dream
It was another wild night of dreams, with this one making a deeper and more lasting impression.
I found myself in another land. After meeting a man and speaking with him, I realized I was in Australia. My wife was also present. No reason for being in Australia was given, but I was pleased. I’ve always wanted to go to Australia, and have just missed several times. I still plan to go.
Anyway, in the dream, I was given some papers that turned out to actually be a little book. I didn’t know what to do with it or why I had it. Reading it didn’t help because it seemed incomplete, and my wife couldn’t figure it out, either. Finding another fellow, I asked him about it, and he showed me how it was a continuation of other documents. He said they were living documents, and took me to a huge wall of like documents. After he explained it, I was excited and explained it to my wife. She wasn’t interested.
I was then informed I had to get to another part of Australia. I hopped into a car and began driving, trying to figure out where I was going as I went. The roads were holed and shoddy. Most of them were like slick mud. As I complained about them to myself and merged onto a highway that was also like slick mud, I was overtaken by cars. They passed at shockingly high speeds. “I forgot they don’t have speed limits here,” I said to myself in the dream car, accelerating to match the pace while I looked for signs and directions.
I found myself out of the car and running. Everyone was running. Instead of driving, we were running everywhere. I was still on the highway and looking for where I was going. Somehow, running, I found it and arrived.
People were there, but it was no one that I recognized. They gave me more books. Where all the other books were white, these books were red. I immediately understood that these were new books, and that I had to take them back to the other location, which I did right away. That pleased the people on the other end. Understanding the books and system at a fast rate, I took on the role of explaining to others how these books continued the stories.
Everyone was told to line up to go somewhere else, part of some planned activities. I got in line and found that I was at the line’s beginning, with my wife beside me. As I started to go, I encountered the first man that had given me the books in the beginning. He and I exchanged some comments, and I told him that I knew how the books worked. That made him happy, and he let me go. As I walked through the gate with my wife into a green field bordered by a white picket fence, I realized that he’d been my teacher.
Wally Said
I hold to Wally’s words, but they trouble me. I write for myself, so the book has an audience. I’d like my novels to have more than an audience of one.
Know what I mean?
How Cool
I’d finished my writing and was doing my post-writing walk. Going up Main Street, I passed the Starbucks. A woman was reading at a table. I glanced up, stopped, and stared.
Yes, she was reading my book.
I was pleased.
She looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was trying to see what you’re reading.”
She glanced at the cover. “I just started it last night. I’m not familiar with the author.”
It took a lot for me to reply, “Well, I feel I should warn you that I’m the author so that you don’t accidentally insult me. Now that you know, you can deliberately insult me.”
She said, “No way. Are you really?”
“Yes. You probably got the book from one of the little libraries around town.”
“No, my friend gave it to me. Maybe she got it from a little library. She finished reading it and thought I would enjoy it.”
We chatted a little longer about the book and the little libraries, and my other novels. I didn’t know her or her friend. I walked away thinking, “How cool is that?” I was so pleased and engrossed, I almost walked in front of a car.
That would have definitely not have been cool.
Fill It Up
We can add, eat chocolate (and pie), drink wine (and beer), and listen to music, but let’s not be greedy.
The Bookstores
We’d read about another book store to check out in Eugene. “Better than Smith Family Bookstore,” they claimed.
Photo: Smith Family Bookstore, Eugene, Oregon
What? Better than Smith?
We love Smith. A re-purposed fire station, it reeks with books. Attempts to organize the books are ongoing. Well, they are organized, but they spill out everywhere.
We checked out J. Michaels Books, on Broadway. It’s a good book store, and well worth an hour of browsing, but it would not supplant Smith for us.
We drove on to Barnes and Nobles on our book quest – the last resort in our efforts to find several books. I know I’m a writer. I’m supposed to make money from selling books. But my wife likes finding used books, reading them, and then selling them to another book store for credit.
I’m ambivalent about that. She and I enjoy reading. We’re spreading the wealth by keeping used books in circulation. And, we’re sparing the environment (some) by keeping the need to publish more books down. But, we know we could do more to reduce books’ impacts on the environment by going digital, but…sigh…we’re in love with the feel, smell and practice of reading physical books. It goes beyond logic.
All that book store visiting prompted thinking about which book store is my favorite. First, what makes a good book store? Books, of course – selection, prices, condition. But there’s often more. A spirit of reading and writing is embedded in the best book stores.
Powell’s Books in Portland remain marginally in first place on my list. One, talking with the folks working there, you can tell that they enjoy books. Two, it’s so damn big and impressively organized. Used and new books co-exist for sale. Both are reasonably priced.
Second place is more difficult. I like, on equal levels, Bloomsbury Books and Bookwagon New and Used Books in Ashland, but I also like Smith Family Bookstore in Eugene. I guess I mark the three establishments as tied for second. All have knowledgeable, book-friendly personnel working there. Bookwagon is the smallest, but we enjoy the owner, Karl.
In third place, then, is another Ashland book store, the Book Exchange. Dark and crowded with tall shelves of books, the Book Exchange feels like an old book store, and offers excellent prices and selections.
In ranking my book stores, I dismissed things like coffee shops, pastries, parking and locations. They’re just nice accouterments to a proper book store, but it’s really about the books.
What about you, readers and writers? Are there any book stores that draw your love and loyalty?
Sporadic Update
An organized compilation of random subjects plaguing me that I may have posted about, but which I think I should update readers about.
- The Trial. A plea bargain was accepted so I don’t need to testify about the break-in. The saddest aspect (besides tangible evidence that strange, sick people are out there) is that our beloved neighbor, Barb, has moved out. She’s just too frightened in her house any longer. That’s troubling. Barb and Walt were two of the best things about our location. Walt’s passed away and Barb has moved away, moving me to sigh about change and life.
- The close call. I survived one close call in April, when I endured one of the worst haircuts I’ve ever received. This young ‘stylist’ was clearly a novice and took to my head with the same sense of style that military barbers employed when I entered basic training. Fortunately, my hair has grown out into something that looks reasonable again.
- Tucker. Tucker suffers from conjunctive gingivitis. We submitted him to some oral surgery in April. It went terrific. Several teeth were removed, including one of his big lower front fangs, if you will, but he’s not having any swelling, bad breath, pain or drooling, so hooray! On the coin’s flip side, he’s feeling so much better that he’s very energetic and wants to assert his position as the alpha beast.
- Other cats. Peace has been brokered between Meep (a.k.a. Popi) and Boo Radley. Boo’s PTSD also seems to be diminishing. The big bedroom bagheera without a tail has become more trusting of us. Quinn, of course, remains Quinn, a sweet, charming cat who prefers to avoid conflict.
- Neighbor cats. Pepper, Princess and Buddy continue their visits and begging. Pepper remains the worse. That’s a little surprising. We always believed Wade’s corgi, Bella, annoyed Pepper, driving her toward us. Sadly, Bella passed away from cancer last month. She’ll be missed but with her absence, we thought that Pepper’s daily visits would taper off. They still could, with time. It could be that what was once refuge is now habit, though. Buddy is a sweet little black character. He’s clearly well-fed, but enjoys being petted and presented kibble, which, being a sucker for cats, I do.
- The cats’ activities interfere with yard work. Here they come when I make an appearance, pop, pop, pop, Pepper, Buddy and Princess, pop, pop, pop, Boo, Meep and Quinn. (I keep Tucker away for the safety of the rest.) Boo likes to settle right beside me, instructing me about what I’m doing wrong as I weed and mulch while the rest visit each other and observe me. All flee to safe distances when the edger and mower come out.
- Fitbit. I took some Fitbit hits with the travel last month. Daily mileage on average dropped to five and a quarter miles per day while the average of steps per day dipped to about twelve thousand for the year to date. But summer is here, so I have hope I can raise those averages.
- Reading. Just read four books in April: ‘Ordinary Grace’ (which I loved), ‘I Am Pilgrim’ (a quick, fast read that had some flaws but remained compelling), ‘The Passenger’ (although interesting, a disappointment), and ‘The Devil’s Star’ (a Jo Nesbo Harry Hole novel). Just started ‘The Shadow of the Wind’ at my other’s insistence.
- Writing. Really hope to finish ‘Long Summer’ soon and get it out there. Its complications absorb a lot of limited brain power keeping it all straight and then trying to present it in a manner that won’t cause insanity among readers. Still *ahem* haven’t leaped back into publishing like I wanted/planned/expected but I remain determined to do so. ‘Peerless’, ‘Everything in Black and White’, the Spider City’ trilogy, and ‘Fix Everything’ all need to undergo the editing and publishing process. Meanwhile, I’m really eager to write the third book in the Lessons with Savanna mystery series.
There are other things to write about, of course, particularly on the family fronts, but I shield them and their activities, so I post very little about that. Politics, technology and economics remain passions that deserve posts but I end up diverting too much energy to write much about them. Dreams are experienced every night, so I could write about those, too, like last night, when I didn’t like how the dream was going, and changed it in the middle, astonishing everyone in the dream. We’re also undergoing the annual raccoon invasion, and dealing with yard work. My wife’s health continues to be a concern while I remain stupidly healthy. Trips and adventures are planned, and we’re hopeful we can pull some of them off this year and not get sucked back into the black hole of family issues.
Overall, I’m excited, optimistic and hopeful, a great way to live. The writer is pestering me to get on to it with Brett, Philea, Handley and the rest, so it’s time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
Never Stale
Hit the book stores as part of our springly, puddly Thursday urban hike. We were in search of my wife’s book club’s March selection (Language Arts). The rich smell of fresh books gobsmacked me after entering the Book Exchange. Pausing, I inhaled, savoring the odor. “I love the smell of new books,” I told the cashier.
A smile lit her face. “Me, too. It’s one of my favorite smells.”
I agreed. “But…what is best? New books? Roasting or brewing coffee? Baking smells? Popcorn.”
She thought a moment. “Books, I think.”
“Why?”
“The smell of books never go stale.”
Ah, sweet.
The Shoes
My wife announced her birthday desire: let’s clean the house and simplify, giving away or selling things we no longer use.
Okay, we do have some clutter and items we don’t use. But we don’t actually sell stuff. We talk about it but we never get around to it. Witness the two leather bar stools in the garage. We purchased them online, used them for a few months and realized they weren’t us and replaced them. To the garage they went to await their next life.
That was about six years ago.
Agreement was reached that we weren’t going to sell stuff. We would donate items, except, we would trade books in. We had six piles of books ready to go elsewhere.
Bags of books were prepared. One was established for the Book Wagon. He took them all, and gave us a $50 credit. I don’t think we’ll ever run out of credit there, which is great, since we love browsing and buying used books from the Book Wagon.
More bags were prepared for the Book Exchange but we’ve yet to go there. Whatever they don’t take for trade in credit will be added to other bags for the Goodwill.
For the Goodwill, we filled three bags of clothing. Jeans that have shrunk. Shirts that are worn out, sweaters and sports coats.
I ached over releasing one shirt. I bought it at Nordstrom in 1998. Blue plaid, cotton, long sleeved with a button down collar, my wife selected it for me. It looked great, brought out my eye color, and I loved it. But now…the collar and cuffs are frayed. There are small pin holes and a rip a cat made with her claws. Sigh.
Into the bag it went.
Once I got over that, I turned to the shoes. I love walking, and have a life long habit of getting the max from my shoes. Finding good shoes and breaking them in is challenging. Keens and Merrills, Clarke’s, Nikes and New Balance, I don’t like giving them up. Okay, so the soles are holed from wear, or flapping lose, and the stitching has come undone and the uppers are separating, and the tongue is hanging on by a few threads. They can still be worn.
No, I don’t wear them any longer, I recognized. All those limitations prevent them from being useful, and they’ve been replaced. But, really, give them to the Good Will? Shouldn’t I just toss them? No, my wife assured me, the Good Will will find a good use for them and they’ll be recycled or re-utilized. She’s a person who pays attention to these matters, so I accepted her verdict. They were taken to the Goodwill.
Last were the bar stools and a few crystal items. We have a ton of crystal – bowls, tumblers, tea, water and wine glasses, decanters – and we don’t use it. Actually it’s all boxed to protect it and stored in a cabinet. Our local AAUW is doing a rummage sale to support their efforts to empower women. We donated these items to them.
We’ve made a little progress. There’s China. More crystal. More chairs. More books. More shoes. Several televisions. Printers….
And maybe a few computers….
Michael Seidel, writer 