The next morning, we dined upon the dead children of our enemies. Or eggs. Same thing. The B&B is marvelous. If you’re ever in the Madison area, look up the Speckled Hen Inn. We’ve been staying there every summer for five years now, and we’ve never been disappointed. Great rooms, amazing inkeepers, and breakfasts that… […]Read More Bookcation, part 5: We buy all the books
And then we went inside. Inside the bookstore we found more books. It’s shocking, I know, but you can never tell with these things. Perhaps the entire building was a bibliovore-eating monstrosity, and the wagons outside full of books were just bait to catch us. And then we would have died happy, clutching our new […]Read More Bookcation, Part 4, wherein we finally get inside the bookstore
My Bride has suffered inconsolably the last day. I forgot a book that should have gone on the last post. She has writhed in agony while also mocking my clear lapse of character. I must right this wrong, ere the end come.Read More Bookcation 2015, Part 3: Wherein I right a terrible wrong, and we stand outside a bookstore in hopes of scraps
There’s an entire room at A Room of One’s Own in Madison dedicated to advanced proofs. These are the copies of books that publishers send out before the book is released to get reviews and hopefully churn up some positive press. The books are illegal to sell. Most of the time when I see them, they’re […]Read More Bookcation 2015, Part 2: Wherein our bibliophiliacs (and possibly bibliomaniacs) find books that don’t yet exist
Once a summer, my Bride and I vacation in the fair city of Madison and look at used books. I’ve written up our voyages before. We returned today from our yearly jaunt, and I’m writing up our adventures again! This year we held a sacred quest. A good friend just took a job teaching fifth […]Read More Bookcation 2015 — Part 1, Wherein two valiant explorers fail to sell their wares and yet still find a profit.
“Just watching the rain,” my grandfather answered. I scanned the dry field in front of his uncured wooden porch. “It’s sunny.” “Hm? Oh, yes. I suppose it is. Here.” His lips stretched into a grin. “But I never said I was watching the rain here.” I looked from the withering tomato stalks to his eyes. […]Read More My Grandfather’s Eyes
The blackened bark of the sundered faetree accused Alathea. She denied nothing. She knelt at its dead roots and wept. Parthenos placed a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me,” his deep voice intoned. “I danced,” she choked out between sobs. “I danced and the thunder danced with me. I laughed. And then the thunder went […]Read More A Lesson of Law