I missed the semi-annual 25% off sale at my favorite used bookstore. The coupon didn't arrive in the mail until the day before the end of the sale, and T was so unhappy with the idea of me taking off to go book shopping that I decided not to fight it. He wanted to do something together, and then he gets stuck for the entire afternoon on a conference call (four hours, for work, on a Sunday). Naturally, I was somewhat miffed by this turn of events. But then he took me for a delicious chocolate dessert, so all was forgiven. Anyway, he has this idea that I already have enough books, so he didn't get why I wanted to stop by this particular sale. Enough books? The concept does not compute. One might as well say, "You've eaten on other days, why do you need to buy more food?"
Yesterday, I went down to chorus early to meet D for dinner, and I decided to pick up some magazines for plane reading (I'm off to Nashville tomorrow to visit my younger brother for a few days). But of course, being as I was in a bookstore, I couldn't resist picking a couple of things up (Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Pforde and Why Girls Are Weird by Pamela Ribon, both paperbacks I'd been meaning to get anyway). So it's really not a matter of whether I'll buy books, but when.
I've almost finished the first volume of the Robert Silverberg-edited fantasy anthology series, Legends. I picked it up mainly for the George R.R. Martin story (which did not disappoint). It's been a good read overall, but I'm relieved that I only discovered one new fantasy series to read, and that it's not by Robert Jordan. I haven't quite finished his story yet (it's the last one in the book), and it's fine so far, but it's not fabulous enough to suck me into his series. Which is good, because I've heard that it's incredibly addictive (I think I once heard someone call it "The Wheel of Crack"). And the last thing I need is to be waiting on pins and needles for *more* fantasy doorstop series books (Martin and Harry Potter are quite enough, thanks).