I literally spent hours in that bookstore on one of my trips (and I'm not saying this like some annoying teenager who has no sense of the true meaning of words, which is really annoying, but I really did spend hours in that bookstore - ask Elizabeth for verification, if needed). This is because I am the kind of person who at least looks at the title of every book on every bookshelf I stop in front of, and if I find a book that I am even somewhat considering, I put the title on a list in my mind for later on in the visit when I do a run through of what I found interesting. I usually spend an hour looking for books, and then 10 minutes doing a recap of the books I have looked at in consideration of buying them, then hit the shelves again for another hour, then do another recap (wash, rinse, repeat). I have a bad memory, and so by this point I usually have trouble remembering what books I looked at in the beginning, so I go back to the beginning and comb through the shelves I looked at previously once more (yes, I'm that book-shopper), this time picking up books that I remember finding interesting before, as well as books that seem interesting now. I then get a cart, because although at first I was having trouble finding good books, the few that I have now are weighing my arms down too much after the (no lie) third hour has passed.
Finally, I have my seven books in hand, and I head towards a sitting area near the check-out, and start rifling through the books I was interested in. Of course I start to have doubts, and so a good portion of the books go into a pile on the side of the cart reserved for books I am going to put back (about 50-60% usually go back on my average book shopping trip). So I guess I have an initiation process for my books that is almost as difficult as Dauntless initiation for the books hoping to get in. Anyways, I at least am a kind person to the initiates who don't make it into my book faction, and don't make them all become basically homeless in a sad corner at the edge of the cashiers desk, waiting to be re-shelved. No, I always do my best to take the books and put them exactly where I got them from. Once I have done that, I proceed to the check-out (to my mothers relief, who had been sitting on a bench for an hour and a half, after looking through a lot of books herself), and buy four books. Yes, about four hours, maybe slightly more, in the biggest, best bookstore I have ever been in, and I am picky enough to come out with only four books.
Anyways, as soon as I got home, I immediately began reading (of course), which leads me to my next topic, the hellish book-burning. I had not only gone to this book store, I had also gone to a few second hand stores which had book sections to them, and gotten books from those stores as well (thus the partial creation of my long summer book reading list). But I found there were a few books that I had gotten that I really did not want to read, most because of the content (I'll leave it at that), and some because I was scared at what I would find hidden in the text. An example of my second reason is Room, by Emma Donoghue. If you haven't heard of the book before, it is from what I understand about a woman who was kidnapped, and is still being held captive. Her captor forces her to give birth to his child, and this book is from the perspective of that child, living with the mother in captivity (although the child is too innocent to really realize that he is being kept there). I started reading it, and only got a few pages in before I got confused about some of the things that were happening, wanting to know for sure what was happening, but at the same time, not wanting to know what was happening (which, I'm sure, is the effect that the author was going for). Anyways, I did not finish that book, just because I was worried about what might be happening in the book (no more explanations just because I don't want to hand out spoilers of any amount).
I had a few more books that I started and just did not like, because of content being fairly explicit and inappropriate, and for one, because it was annoying (sorry, can't remember which one in order to warn you against it). There is one other book in particular that was both inappropriate and annoying, who's title shall remain unnamed just for it's and it's authors own privacy. But the book was brought before me in trial and I ruled that it was guilty of indecent public exposure and that it was to have it's entrails brought before it, then the book would be burned alongside it's entrails. Since there was no executioner to be found to fulfill these duties, I took it onto myself to do so. I had the matches, and lined them up side by side to each other a precise inch apart from each other, like hurdles for a bug to take on at full speed at track and field day. The convicted book was taken to the site of execution and watched as the majority of its pages were torn out, and finally put out of its rightfully deserved misery by being burned with it's entrails.
Except for that's maybe not entirely how it happened. I took the book, tore the pages, but couldn't burn it. Except that's not how it went, either. And it's not even that I could not burn and tear the book. I took the book and - and that is where the misinformation lies. I lost the book somewhere between the trial and the execution. I am a failure of a judge, jail keeper, and executionist. I guess I'll never go into medieval law enforcement, but something tells me that that wouldn't have worked out for me anyways.
So I lost the book. I'm sure it is starving under the bed that I slept in while I was gone for the summer, or perhaps part of it is lying on your side table, newly recycled into today's news after mistakenly being placed in the recycling bin. Who knows? Other than all the mothers out there, anyways.
I hope your week is going great, and that you aren't disappointed over the distinct lack of ink spilt.