In this age of Amazon recommendations and Kindle downloads, I still rely on the old-fashioned services of a book buyer. My personal book buyer has an uncanny ability to anticipate my tastes. He has introduced me to out-of-print novelists, obscure playwrights and classic philosophy tracts. I’ve enjoyed nearly all of his choices, though quite a few remain stacked in my bookshelf, still unread.
In a delightful essay called
My Backlogged Pages in
The New York Times, John Feffer writes about his personal bookbuyer - a teenager in fact, who turns out to be .... . Well,
read it yourself!
After the cliffhanger, I had to check out the article. And I guessed who the teenager was :)
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