During the downtime between book deadlines, I’ve been able to catch up on my reading. As many writers can attest, when you’re writing you want to read, and when you’re reading it’s easy to wish you were writing.
Not to say I haven’t been dabbling with the next manuscript, trying to reach that acceleration point where the process takes over, but with the holidays, it’s slow. Oh, I’m getting five pages a day, but they haven’t sparked yet.
So for inspiration, I picked up an old favorite off one of the shelves behind my desk. It was Larry McMurtry’s The Last Picture Show, a book that should be required reading for all future Texan authors. It’s not a long novel, and I finished it in one blustery afternoon when I couldn’t force myself into going outside. Putting it back, my fingers brushed Texasville, and I was away on another adventure with his character Duane Moore in Thalia, Texas.
After finishing all five books in that saga, my appetite for McMurtry wasn’t sated. I considered his Lonesome Dove books, but decided to read some of his more contemporary novels , and that’s when tragedy struck.
See, I’m a collector. When I find an author I can’t put down, I’ll search out all their works in first edition, and I’ve been a McMurtry fan since reading All My Friends are Going to be Strangers back in high school. I have them all, and went to find the next one. But I hadn’t put them order since we had the new bookcases put in. When the Bride and I bought this new house, we hired a craftsman to install my dream shelves that now groan under the weight of bound worlds.
Once the cabinetmake finished, and my librarian daughter quit climbing the ladder and rolling back and forth on the rail, and we simply unloaded all the books from the boxes, putting them only in author order, and I’ve never gone back and sorted them.
“Good lord!”
The Bride wandered into my office a few minutes later, unimpressed by my outburst. “What have you done now?”
“I’m missing a McMurtry.”
“Are you sure?”
I blinked at her for a long moment. “Of course I’m sure. I’m standing here on the ladder, looking at all the titles and In a Narrow Grave isn’t here.”
“You sure you had that one?”
“What’s with the interrogation? I remember all my books, and the day I picked that one up from a bargain bin long before we met. It was one of those little bookstores that just bought books and stacked them around.” I momentarily drifted away. “What a wonderful store.”
“Go buy another one.”
I shook my head “This was a first edition.”
“So?”
“The last one I saw was somewhere around eight hundred dollars.”
“Well, you need to find that one.”
We searched high and low. It wasn’t mis-shelved, or behind other books. It was simply gone. I might have lost it in one of the several moves over the years, but I swear I remember seeing it on the shelf in our previous house.
But then another lightning bolt struck as I put the remainder of McMurtry’s works in order. “Good lord!”
“Really?” She wandered back in. “What now?”
“The Late Child and Somebody’s Darling are gone too!”
Que the mystery music. Dum, dum, dum.
As the camera moves in, we exchanged perplexed expressions, and then understanding dawned.
I felt faint and placed both palms against my cheeks. “Someone’s borrowed them!!!”
Her eyes widened. “Without asking!!!”
I’m sure the Bride would have taken to the fainting couch, if we had one.
“Hannah!” The name unconsciously slipped out.
The Bride shook her head at the mention of our youngest daughter’s best friend. I like to blame her for many incidents and accidents through the years from the time they were children, but the Bride yanked me back. “She’s off the hook. She doesn’t read.”
I struggled with her statement “Hannah asked me for a recommendation one time, when she was in middle school. I might have given her a book, and I doubt she ever brought it back. Maybe she likes odd numbers and took two more.”
“You wouldn’t have given her either one of those.”
“You’re right.” I struggled with the enormity of what we faced. Someone borrowed two prized possessions. Why didn’t they take the dog instead, or one of the girls? At least they would have wandered back home at some point.”
“Burglars,” I wondered aloud. “Maybe there’s some hot, black market for those two volumes.”
I don’t own a lending library. I’d learned my lesson decades earlier when I loaned my complete collection of William Jose Farmer’s World of Tiers series to a good friend who loved to read. We shared many fine hours talking books and authors, until he betrayed me. He finished those first editions and ––– gave them to someone else.
“I didn’t know you wanted them back,” he answered, perplexed when I asked for them back.
They’re as gone as the Library of Alexandria.
Today there’s only three people who are on the Loan List, and two of them have their own McMurtry collections. (I wonder if they completed those by borrowing mine…nah.)
Pouring two fingers of Buffalo Trace to settle my nerves and a great sense of loss, I resumed arranging my entire library, which took some time, leaving space on the shelf to replace those missing volumes.
Now the search begins to find quality first edition replacements. It will be a hard, bitter road, but the sense of anticipation, and then joy of discovery, is something to look forward to.
So if you’re considering a Christmas present for me, you now have an idea.
With that, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all. Good luck to the writers, and happy reading to those who enjoy settling in with a good book.
There’s only one person I trust with a loan. I have “lent” some out not expecting their returns and I have been right.
Feel for your loss.
It’s like loaning money, you really should expect it to come back. Many thanks!
Rev, I feel your pain. although the line about why didn’t a thief take the dog or a child instead cracked me up.
Years ago, I lost Scene and Structure personally inscribed by the great Jack Bickham b/c I foolishly lent it out. Still mourning that book even tho a wonderful friend tried to ease my sorrow with a replacement edition. Learned my lesson. Never again.
Sometimes as soon as you buy a replacement for a lost item, it often magically turns up. Hope that happens for you.
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Thanks so much. I always hope to make people smile, especially when they get the joke.
I’ve checked all the shelves, and they’re simply gone. Sigh. Now, the hunt begins sorry about your own books. Wish we could trust more people to understand how we feel.
Oh, my gosh, I feel your anguish. I grew up with a father who loved books and taught his children great respect for them. We weren’t allowed to touch any of his volumes without washing our hands and passing inspection. Of course, I grew up loving and collecting, reading my favorites many times. I had a friend (and had is the correct word) who also loved to read. We were close. I thought she understood. I loaned her four of my very favorites and told her I wasn’t in a hurry to get them back. She took a long time to read them. One day I casually asked her if she’d finished them, and she said she had, and had enjoyed them very much. I asked for them back. She had passed them on to her sister, and when I followed the trail, discovered they had not only been passed on after that, but had eventually been sold at a garage sale. Who does this? What kind of person has so little respect for someone else’s property? My friend said she didn’t understand. They were just books. I almost fainted. She became an ex-friend and I have never loaned one of my books to anyone again. I won’t even let my grandchildren take one of my books out of my house. In all these years I’ve been able to replace only one of them. Yes, I know people are important. But these were my books.
You nailed it. It’s that respect for books, and so many people don’t understand that. Don’t break them open. It damages the spines. Don’t tear the dust jacket. Don’t digest the pages. There are so many don’ts.
The learning curve continues.
Oh no. I don’t loan my books. I would especially never loan my Zane Grey hardcovers in the red/tan binding that I’ve been collecting over the years.
The only exception would be if I bought some book on a whim not intending to keep it–I don’t mind passing it along. But otherwise, I’m happy to tell people how to order their own copy or even get them a copy & give it to them. People are too forgetful about returning stuff in this day and age. I wouldn’t even want to borrow from someone because of how long it takes me to finish a book.
We can usually suggest the electronic readers download a copy. Cheaper for them, and it saves our copies.
I have no doubt that when I’m gone, many of my books will suffer the indignity of sales or donations, but at least they’ll be in Fine condition.
Ouch, Rev. I feel your pain as well. We’ve been fortunate in that, with perhaps one exception, the books we’ve loaned out have all been returned, though there have been a couple that have taken some time getting back to us. I have a recollection that one book didn’t come back to us, but I’ll be darned if I can remember this morning. My wife is still asleep but if she were away, she’d likely remember if we had lost a book (or two).
Occasionally we’ve written down who’s borrowed what when, but not often, since our collection isn’t a lending library 🙂
I love the image of your custom-made dream book shelves groaning under the weight of all those volumes. We have one set of floor to ceiling wall mounted book shelves here, sized for mass market paperbacks, that hold all of our science fiction and fantasy paperbacks.
Wonderful photo of you toasting us! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you as well!
I’ll have to post a couple of photos from my office one of these days. Thanks, my friend.
That’s on my dream list–having custom shelves built & installed for my books. 😎
“Never lend books, for no one ever returns them. The only books in my library are books other folk have lent me.” – Anatole France
Perfect!
I lost a signed Steven James hardback to a friend(?) who lent it to her daughter once she finished reading it. The daughter, a youth pastor, lost it. I almost reported her to her pastor/boss…if she can lose someone else’s book, what is she teaching the youth of that church????
I don’t understand the mindset of loaning out what isn’t yours. I was raised differently, and to value books. Sigh.
The horror! I plan to give all my signed first editions of North Carolina authors to the library for their NC room. Inglis Fletcher and Manly Wade Wellman should be remembered.
First editions should be cherished. Even those who only published once, because it was an accomplishment for them!