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It's been brought to my attention recently that I've been remiss in updating the ol' blogroll with some of the blogs I actually regularly read, and some of the bookstore blogs that I'm just discovering. So I have gotten at last off my tush and added some of my favorites-- read 'em (at right) and weep.

Book Soup has the best (obscene but true) tagline.

Word has the best Brooklyn stuff, natch.

Bookavore is a fellow Emerging Leaders type, a true book nerd -- her description of how she became a bookseller made me want to be her new best friend.

Wordsmiths has the best ongoing narrative (home town store makes good, moves into the bank building, graphic novels go in the vault!) -- and awesome event photos; they're my newest model for how I want to run my bookstore blog.

there is no gap is the thoughtful stuff you'd expect from Shaman Drum's Karl Pohrt.

Archimedes Forgets is the off-hours (but still awfully booky) project of the ABA's lovely Sarah Rettger.

The Inside Flap is a brilliantly done multi-author blog from the bookstore crown jewel of Wisconsin.

Bookninja is an always prescient Canadian litblog (and the source of half my links these days), run by a poet acquaintance of mine who used to live in New York.

There's more, of course -- explore, explore!

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Today is also my last day as a BookStream employee. I'll be working for the company a bit on a freelance basis, but today I'm wrapping up loose ends and saying goodbyes. It's a bit melancholy, but I've already got new irons in the fire -- meeting to get to, phone calls to make -- in the pursuit of the Brooklyn Bookstore.

What I'm hoping for in between is a little of this. While I can't remember the last time I spent three hours in the tub, like the author of this Guardian piece, I agree 100% with the following proposition:

"Baths are one of the few pleasures body and self can appreciate simultaneously. This is entirely because reading in the bath is the height of civilisation."

It's a bit of a cold wet day in Brooklyn -- after I wrap up the work day, I'm looking forward to a little height of civilization. Since I'm a wimpy Californian, sometimes in the winter the bath is the first time I feel really comfortable all day, and it's all the better with something to read. Jessa Crispin of Bookslut also famously reads in the tub (in Chicago I don't blame her), and I suspect it's a widespread practice among bookish types (it's also as cheap as luxury gets).

My bathtime reads tend toward the New Yorker, or a collection of essays (I'm currently reading Michael Chabon's forthcoming Maps and Legends) -- I find a bit of wit, a turn of phrase, the path of an idea (though not too heavy), is just the thing for winding down in a hot tub. (And I agree with some of the commenters: a glass of red wine "perched death-defyingly on the rim of the sink" can sometimes improve the experience.)

What do you like to read in the bath, if you do indulge? If not, what's your height of reading relaxation/civilization?

Just when I needed a bit of cheering up about the ol' "decline of reading" hobbyhorse, my friend Mark sent me this great bit of opinion from John McWhorter's column in the New York Sun:

America in 1907 read more than most of us. But did America of 1907 read smarter than us? Transported back to America in 1907, would we savor a book culture less dumbed down than ours? Well, let's take a look at the bestselling fiction of 1907. All 10 were potboilers unknown today. The top seller was "The Lady of the Decoration" by one Frances Little. Others on the list included the likes of "The Port of Missing Men" and "Half a Rogue."

Members of the Navy may no longer be allowed to get tattoos, but that won't stop the rest of the world from this peculiar new sign of one's own innate awesomeness. Cooler than cartoon characters and more desirable than the names of loved ones, who can resist it? First came this bit on Lane Smith's blog . . .

. . and now Frankenstein Made a Sandwich has joined the ranks.



Well played, Adam.