04 May 2010

Unbookening will be sorry one day, yes you will, yes you will

(If you're new here, this is the origin of the term unbookening, back when it still had its hyphen [!]; these are all the entries that followed.)

March-April edition:
Received 19 books to review
Checked 9 books out of the library
Borrowed 1 book from a friend
Bought 6 books
Won 1 book in a contest (I am lucky on the Internet right now)
+36

Donated 24 books (OK, so I did do a little spring cleaning)
Gave away 5 books
Returned 12 to the library
-41

Programming notes:
First, this feature is going bimonthly (first definition) until further notice. I'm still trying to reduce my stash of unread books and think about every book I acquire; I just am running out of things to write about that, which is why I have to pull shenanigans like cramming a bunch of non-related material into the bottom of those posts just to keep myself interested, ahem.

Second, Baseball Week is definitely going to happen -- but not till July. I'm thinking the 5th? It will definitely include those Roth and Mahler books, plus two titles to be announced in a few weeks. This doesn't mean that summer of DFW isn't happening, either; I just need to go back to the lab a little bit and perfect my 29-hour day. (Also, make room on my shelves to buy those. Hey, that is slightly relevant!)

Third, whose hotly anticipated summer novel did I get in the mail to review last week? And whose remaining body of work (four novels and a short-story collection I haven't read yet) am I going to crush into the next four weeks before I get to it, I hope? Stay tuned 'cause I will probably be writing about him and that process soon. (Three unhelpful clues: He was born in the 1960s, he lives in Los Angeles and he has a Twitter account he appears to run himself.)

1 comment:

Wade Garrett said...

I think its important to, as you said, think about the books you acquire. I end up picking up a lot of books for 25 or 50 cents at library sales, or for free from the front stoops of neighborhors who are moving out and want to get rid of them, in the vague hope that I'll get around to them someday. That thinking doesn't work as well in my small New York apartment as it did when I had my parents' entire attic at my disposal.