When I was a kid I was a huge fan of tearing out the order forms in the back of my paperbacks, hassling my mom until she wrote a check, and then mailing it off and waiting. Yes, I actually didn’t mind the waiting. There was a lovely sweet edge to the anticipation of looking out the window everyday at noon on the hot summer days waiting for the mailman to go.
At 35 I’m still doing that, except now it’s my own books coming to me. This weekend was a good one – finished copies of IN A HANDFUL OF DUST and BIS ZUM LETZTEN TROPFEN, the German edition of NOT A DROP TO DRINK.
Well played, mailman. Well played.