Reblogged because the young lady was reading my Wilkie Collins description and really should just be allowed to sniff books whenever she wants. She has a licence to do so from now on…
I had no business being there. I didn’t have the cash, nor the time, nor the eye to really have a good understanding of what I was actually doing there at the New York Antiquarian Book Fair, and I certainly didn’t have the moxy to go up to these bibliophiles and talk shop, though I desperately wanted to. The last book I read was on a Kindle for goodness sake, and I feel extremely guilty about that.
But there I was, at the Antiquarian Book Fair, passing stalls, walking around with a catalog and wallet as if I did belong there and as if I did have the money to make it rain on some illuminated manuscripts.
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