Ah…another moment in a writer’s life: getting an email to advise me that my book, published in 2009, is now going OOP. That is, out-of-print. There were only four copies remaining, sitting lonely in some warehouse somewhere. Somewhere house.
Just like in December, when my new book showed up, these came along. And in a most odd way there is something equally ceremonious to seeing a work through to its close.
And I feel a rush of affection for libraries. Libraries take care of books and give them a home while people still share them.
Still life with books. Life stills with books.