Sorry, All Booked Up

Yesterday, the Memphis niece and I went on a photography expedition around town. When we returned home, we were greeted by this orphan, left on the door step.


A box of science fiction by great authors. Poul Anderson. Henry Kuttner. A.E. Van Vogt and others.

In Dutch.

Honest. Look at those titles. (For that matter, look at that cover art!)

Next door neighbor, who owned up to the deed, said that the books didn't sell at the Friends of the Prescott Library store even when the entire box was marked down to $5. Guess there's just one reader of Dutch in our community.


Of course, I don't read Dutch. But even if I wanted to keep the dang books, where would I put them? This is the entrance hallway of my house.


The route to my office.

And, yes, a bathroom cabinet.

Niece, who has a similar problem at her house, suggested that I show these pictures to help readers assuage guilt about the immovable stacks that accumulate despite the best of intentions. Let them know that they are Not Alone.

Alright, I've done it. Now -- who wants some Dutch SF?