Did wind up making it down to Printers Row late this afternoon. After all my bitching last year, I wondered if it were really worth it, but I was, as always, lured by the prospect of finding something interesting, in this case, some good old books to rip to pieces. And it paid off, a little 1930's novel called Hell's Belle, which is prefaced by, "The tragedy of a girl of today who is raised among all the old superstitions of yesterday." Not quite the etiquette manual I've been looking for, but close, and only 5 bucks at that, and in good enough shape not to crumble in my hands when I try to alter it.
It was the usual crowds and annoyances, this time complete with a bunch of fuckwits who liked to stand in front of the books and yap on their cell phones, thus obscuring the selection whilst not really perusing themselves. Again lots of prints and rare pricey editions, but not much for my tastes. Not much poetry, expensive or cheap. And the cheap novels selection seemed lackluster, though I admit, I'm out of the ficion loop these days as to what's good or bad. But it was a nice mild and sunny day, probably one of the last before summer kicks in with the humidity. And they did apparently move the poetry readings back out into the open. I made sure to scowl at the mammoth Barnes and Noble tent.
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