Not to brag or anything, but lately every book I touch turns to gold. We all go through periods when there is nothing worth reading in our 4,000-book library. This is kind of the opposite, where we discover all sorts of treasures on our shelves that we hadn't realized where there.
I've also been playing the library version, Serendipity. I walk along the shelves and idy pick out a book because the author's name is familiar (but not too familiar), I like the cover picture, I can remember vaguely hearing about the book, or - and this is the most likely to produce a winner -- the book has been rebound.
Libraries don't rebind much any more as the books that fall apart tend to be ephemeral in value and it has become more costly to rebind than to buy a fresh copy of the now-tattered book. So the books whose spines are a plain dull brown, blue, or green buckram tend be older (some as old as from the 40s or 50s), were at one time popular (or they wouldn't have needed rebinding), and were considered by the librarians to be of sufficient value to justify the expense of rebinding them.
This hot streak I'm on, combined with the opening of the Spokane Symphony season (Strauss' Alpensinfonie, anyone?), has led me to ignore my blog. I'll start soon talking about these delightful books I've been reading lately but I want to finish a couple more of them first. Stay tuned.