Today I am back to work, which is lovely. In my absence almost all the work has been done on the new case for the rare books - all the dusty, woodshavingy, banging part of the process - which leaves me to over see the final stages - gap filling, shelf spacing. For this I am happy. Soon all our rare books will have a new, safe, visible home. This is a good thing because contrary to popular opinion rare books like to be seen. They like to show off. "Look at me, I'm from the 15th century", "Yeah? Well I've got copperplates depicting the garb of the priesthood in the time of the first temple", *another book arrives* "What do you think of my original maroon morrocan cover?" *First books shuffle off grumbling and casting glares over their shoulders*
Sorry, own little world there for a moment.
My point, if indeed I had one, is that if books are locked away, never handled or examined, nasty things happen to them.
They turn bad and plot to take over the earth. Things like mould, and damp and bookworm. Ever seen what bookworm does?

Or you could try

Bookworm is bad. There are many other bad things that can happen to a book, many of which can be resolved, but a basic rule of thumb is when something is eaten, you aint getting it back.
So the rules for today is: new book
case good, book
worm bad.
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peadarog had a very interesting post
here about the relation of genre and literature which on the whole I agree with. I'd go so far as to sum it up as Genre excites, Literature resonates, hense the two are not incompatible. Does this mean literature is more about language than story? In some cases definitely. I still find it amusing that people like Shakespeare and Dickens, held as an inviolate part of the canon of the literary school, would have been the genre writers of their day. That they happened to write beautifully was an aside. What they wrote was largely disposable fiction. Makes you think, huh?
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I also noticed in Dunnes Stores yesterday a large number of mummies with their seasonal shopping club vouchures running amok because they did not have children (for they are back at school), buying all the things they couldn't get near for the whole summer holidays. Like lampshades, vases, female clothes, shoes... I was among them. Two new lampshades, which then unfortunately translated into a trip for e_w_h to Woodies later that evening to buy new lightfittings as those in place were falling apart. Oh little details. Don't bother me with details. Can't you see I'm shopping?
Without children?!
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So that's about it for random meanderings today. I should have edits on The Penitent shortly, and some more blurb work. I wrote some more of The Wolf's Mate last night and I subbed again To Regain Heaven yesterday. (I hate it when novels just sit there on your hard drive, doing nothing but distracting me.) I have a pite of crits. I will get to them. I promise. *sigh*