Borders Books farewell letter.
Look what I found on the local cafe/game store’s book exchange shelves.
People usually ask me one of two questions about Go the F**k to Sleep. They either want to know what my parents think of it, or what I’ll tell my three-year-old daughter, Vivien—whose nighttime antics inspired the story—when she’s old enough to know the book exists. Luckily for me, the answers to these questions come pretty easily, especially since I just did like four shots of tequila. I’ll tell Vivi that Go the F**k to Sleep is the reason we live in a house, with functional walls and a dishwasher made entirely of imported Italian marble, instead of under a bridge in an overturned taco truck full of venomous wasps. I’ll tell her that the book is written with vast affection, that it became the anthem of a worldwide coterie of tired parents who, like me, love their children with an undying passion but also really, really want to go downstairs and have a glass of wine, or a conversation, or an uninterrupted thought, or sex.
William Gibson. Neuromancer. Wallpaper sized for your enjoyment.
I have a lot of books.
Maybe too many books.
OK, definitely too many books.
And I have bills.
Too many bills.
So I want to solve two problems with one solution: I want to give you — yes, you! — two books off my shelf. You just have to paypal me $15. (And your address needs to be…
A reminder: I want to send you two random books for $15.
For my two books/$15 dollars offer. If I don’t get many takers I’ll just start trying to sell them on Amazon or something.