Some of the books have never been read, which makes me feel sad. Imagine pouring your heart and soul into a book that is bought, shelved, and removed without a single patron's glance.
I suppose that as long as the book was bought, the money is made and the author received satisfaction from that. But somehow I still believe there's more to writing than the sale at the end of one's labors.
Anyway, I've scored a few nuggets of gold as a result of the cull and processed a lot of (ahem) gravel, as well. And I couldn't help but gloat a little bit this week when a few generous tomes by Thomas Pynchon came through. I read The Crying of Lot 49 ages ago and remember nothing of it. Excerpts - read long ago at C.S.'s urging - from Gravity's Rainbow were memorable, but not in a good way.
Our lucky Book Store customers will find a few of Pynchon's recent works at the book sale next month, reasonably priced at $1 apiece and worth every penny!