Died and went to heaven. Lollapalooza. Treasure chest. If books were circus animals, Word on the Street would be the biggest Big Top of all. Toronto book lovers turn out in the many, many thousands to browse the mass of publishers, incredible book discounts, and star author readings.
Some loot I dragged home, defeating weeks of all those neck-and-shoulder exercises I've been religiously undertaking:
► A Val McDermid for $3 (The Grave Tattoo, 2006). A favourite writer but one of the few I could grab in the four-deep crowd at that booth. [Amended 8 Oct as my mind overcame confusion with Barbara Vine aka Ruth Rendell; well, y'know, V for Val and Vine.]
► Glenn Cooper for $3 (The Devil Will Come, 2011). I hope it's not poltergeists and children turning into vicious para-human killer torches.
► W.R. Clement for $1 (Reforming the Prophet, 2002). Added to my modest pile of Muslim world literature because this guy sounds non-polemical with some impressive credentials.
► The Rough Guide to Tunisia for $1 (2005). Because, you know, it's hard to find anything on Tunisia.
► Kate Thompson for $3 (That Gallagher Girl, 2010). Who is Kate Thompson? A teenage-reader gift was in mind here but might need vetting first. The word sexy is on the outside back cover blurb, I note belatedly.
► Something else (maybe I lost one?) for $3 before my flimsy nylon sac split at the bottom and a bookseller took pity on me with a heftier Great Harvest Bread Co.® carry bag. Thank you, sir. After staggering home I duly googled this oddity appearing amongst food for the mind. OK, I'm still scratching my head. “Baking the difference in neighbourhoods across the USA” likely has some relevance with which I am out of touch.
Did not buy whatever this guy was selling. Perhaps a subconscious sartorial competition with Don Cherry? Oh, I see. It's bafflegab from Foth. Remember him? Could be he always dresses like that in public. Thank gawwwd it wasn't Peter C. Newman.