I’ve written over a dozen books.
It’s bad enough that some are already out of print.
It’s worse that I saw 1 of them — a project that took me a year to research and write — on a long table yesterday, at the Westport Public Library‘s annual book sale.
Even worse, people skipped over it like it carried swine flu.
Worse than that, it was a signed copy. Inscribed to somebody. As a gift from me.
I suppose worst of all will be if I go back Tuesday, when everything is free. And find it still there.