D. Martyn Lloyd Jones:

This month of January 2012 I have bought from the Westminster Bookstore:

1. Exposition of Chapter 6 of Romans: The New Man
2. Exposition of Chapter 5 of Romans: Assurance
3. Exposition of Chapter 3:20-4:25: Atonement and Justification
4. Exposition of Chapter 7:1-8:4:  The Law
5. Exposition of Chapter 8:5-8:17: The Sons of God
6. Exposition of Chapter 8:17 839: The Final Perseverance of the Saints
7. Exposition of Chapter 9: God’s Sovereign Purpose
8. Exposition of Chapter 11: To God’s Glory

I would not dare to venture a guess at how many books I have bought – and given away or dumped – in my lifetime, but I think it would be no exaggeration to say that it is in the tens of thousands.  Books are like a disease with me – almost.  You see, I not only love to read but also love the physical feel of old ones and the intoxicating scent of new ones.  I like to hold them in my hand, love that slightly cracking sound when you open one for the first time and the spine must yield.  The cover art of hardbacks is sometimes fabulous, and, truth be known, I often rip the cover off paperbacks once I have read them and save the cover for the art.  Again, I don’t know how many of those I’ve saved – and lost – over the years.  This physical love affair explains why, nifty though it certainly is, the KINDLE never really caught on with me.

It’s not that I buy old books, first editions, incunabula, that sort of thing.  Books are not an investment for me, but just things I like.  Admittedly, if I do get a first edition when I buy a book, I make a point of saving it with special care, since some of those do end up quite valuable after a few years, but I don’t look for first editions.  They are serendipitous acquisitions.

Despite my most valiant efforts, the stock of Amazon.com sometimes drops, though I feel my input should long ago have obviated the need for even temporary downturns.  Being able to shop on-line for books has been both a blessing and a curse:  a blessing because it is so easy to buy any book you want, and a curse because it is so easy to buy any book you want.  I think you see my point.  If I read a review or see someone interviewed on TV who has a book out, chances are I will look into it and in all likelihood buy the thing if it is even remotely connected to even the most remote interest I may have in that area.

I buy a lot of thrillers and detective novels.  I like lawyer and medical stories.  Short story collections appeal to me.  History interests me, as does the contemporary world.  I have more dictionaries and reference works than I know what to do with.  Scattered among the totality are books in half a dozen or so foreign languages (which, though I can’t really speak all of them, I do read with some facility). I buy some math books now and then, I get old classics, a few foreign language items from booksellers abroad, and am crazy about art and photography books.  This can get very expensive, especially the latter category.  But, hey, it’s only money, and I really don’t have any other vices – don’t drink, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, don’t gamble, have no interest in jewelry, have no [other] dollar-draining collecting manias, and the expensive dinners I like are really pretty few and far between.  So, I buy books.  Sue me!

Some of my books go back decades, back to my early college days and courses from graduate school.  Many of these I’ve held on to over the years and in fact still use sometimes.  They bring to mind the professor in the course and perhaps some of the other students taking it, some of them now dead, others scattered over the four corners of the earth.  In addition to their contents, they are dear to me for their private pasts:  the coffee stain here and the torn page there evoke specific memories of late-nighters, study sessions with Cindy writing her stories or Ling doing her computer science homework or Shariffa sketching my face she knew so well.  These books are memorials of my history.  They are precious far beyond their minimal monetary value.

But this group is only a small fraction of the total.  The others are, for the most part, all of more recent vintage, many of them still unread, sitting on a shelf or lying on the floor, mocking me (“Why do you keep buying new ones when you haven’t read me yet?”) in ways I cannot satisfactorily deflect.

The fact is that I am running out of space in my present apartment.  I don’t know how many books I had in the house I used to live in, but it was certainly in the many thousands. Yet I kept and still keep buying, keep rearranging my shelves, my desk tops, my floor space.  You’d think a basically rational guy like me could get a handle on this deep need to buy and buy and buy books.  I won’t even try to explain or justify why this behavior has me in its grip.  I make weak excuses to myself that there are worse ways to run through money, and that I keep booksellers and, I hope, authors alive.

If you think I am crazy – at least on this one count – well, I won’t necessarily disagree with you.  But before you judge me too harshly, please ask yourself wherein your own perfection lies.

I got a Kindle Fire this year, and its been a blessing for sure. 

I have put the Kindle to good use already

I have added  book and the Bible, and Expository dictionary, etc.

1. The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia
2. Biblical Preaching by Haddon W. Robinson
3. Spurgeon books 18
4. The Digital Puritan Vol. 1. Not. 1 Richard Baxter, Thomas Watson, Jonathan Edwards, John Owen, and Thomas Brooks
5. The Digital Puritan Vol. 1 No. 2 Richard Sibbes, Thomas Boston, John Bunyan, Thomas Adams, and Thomas Shepard
6. The Digital Puritan Vol. 1 No 3: Thomas Manton, Lewis Bayly, Thomas Boston, John Flavel, and William Gurnall
7. The Digital Puritan Vol. 1 No. 4: EdwardReynolds, Stephen Charnock, Joseph Alleine, Joseph Caryl, and Jonathan Edwards
8. The Expositor’s Bible: The Epistle to the Hebrews by Thomas Edward
9. Hebrews: A theological commentary on the Bible by D.Stephen Long
10. The Bible KJV Large print
11. Luke: A Theologicasl Commentary on the Bible  by Judyo Gonxslrx
12. TheMacArthur New Testament Complimentary on Luke 1 to 8
13. The MacArthur Study Bible NKJV
14. Naves Topical Bible
15. New Oxford American Dictionary
16. Preaching: How To Preach Bionically: John MacArthur
17. Right Thinking in a World Gone Wrong: John MacArthur
18. Slave: John MacArthur
19. The Sovereignty of God by Arthur W. Pink
20. Strong’s Dictionary of the Bile both Hebrew and Greek
21. Strong’s Hebrew Dictionary of the Bible
22. Toward An Exegetical Theology by Walter C Kaiser,Jr.
23. Vines’s Complete Expository Dictionary by W.E. Vine
24. Preaching and Preachers by D. Marty Lloyd-Jones
25. Interlinear Greek New Testament
26. The works of Jonathan Edwards Volume One
27. Systematic Theology by Wayne Gruden 01/31/12
28. Early Christian Thinkers: Shaped our doctrine . 100 to 200 A.D. 01/31/12

Then too I have transferred  documents from my computer to the kindle.

• The sermon outlines and notes and manuscripts that I use for preaching and teaching I can put on the Kindle and use on Sunday and Wednesday that is great

I do have some Apps.

1. Notepad:. I can type notes from and keep and save.
2. Facebook
3. Quick Office: keeps documents
4. The Weather Channel
5. Touch Bible: Really nice: good print and can go to any chapter to read
6. Gallery: Photo upload
7. IMDb Movies
8. My Email: Really nice, Better than on AOL.
9. Prime Instant Videos

Plus the Web. Always good.

I thought about it for some time and recalled a brilliant little essay I once read by Walter Benjamin, a philosopher, social and literary critic, and renowned bibliophile occasionally associated with the Frankfurt School of literary theory.  “Unpacking My Library” represents Benjamin’s reflection on his own personal collection as he catalogued it in a new abode.  (Because he was Jewish, Benjamin found himself running from the Nazis, moving first to Paris, then to Switzerland, then to Spain where he ultimately committed suicide.)  He speaks of the “thrill of acquisition” and the collector’s concern for each book’s fate, as opposed to its “functional, utilitarian value.”  The book’s fate brings an additional element to its ownership, superseding anything one experiences when purchasing a new book.  That is, all of the relevant facts about that used book contribute to its essence, which the owner values or ought to value: its history, publisher, message, binding, illustrations, craftsmanship, and of course, its previous owner.  “As he holds them in his hands, he seems to be seeing through them into their distant past as though inspired.”  Thus, just as individual works have their own fates, individual copies of such works also have their own fates—a key distinction to the used collector.

Benjamin’s theory of used book acquisition indicates that purchasing such books is a rebirth or renaissance for the individual copy (not necessarily the text, for the text lives on indefinitely).  Renewal of the old world contains a childlike element in that children are always renaming, reconfiguring, recreating, and reviving old things.  The same is true of the collector, and that is why renewing the old world “is the collector’s desire when he is driven to acquire new things.”

Non-collectors may criticize: “Have you read all these books? Will you ever have time to read them all?”  Benjamin notes ironically that failure to read these books is characteristic of collectors.  Indeed, one would not have a library, properly called, if one did not have unread books.  Benjamin notes that he once tried purchasing only books he read, with deleterious consequences to his library: “This was its militant age, when no book was allowed to enter it without the certification that I had read it.  Thus, I might never have acquired a library extensive enough to be worthy of the name if there had not been an inflation.”  Hence, in some cases, the collector may intend never to read the book—only to rescue it “because he found it lonely” and in need of freedom.  “To a book collector, you see, the true freedom of all books is somewhere on his shelves.”  My personal collection includes some wonderful volumes from various trips, too, many of which I have not read.  Nonetheless, they serve as a constant reminder of images and memories of cities I enjoyed.  Further, I believe firmly that cities reveal an important part of themselves in secondhand shops of all kinds, whether selling books or antiques, for example.

In summation, the intimate relationship between collector and his personal collection is of the most important kind.  Although public collections are more useful than private collections, the intimate bond between book and owner esteems the objects with their proper due in the latter, something critically absent from the former.  Perhaps, this is why I was so giddy when I returned from the used bookshop and placed my new acquisitions on my bookshelf: I was esteeming my purchases with the intimate relationship of ownership, given their previous fates and all this entails.

(All quotations from Benjamin, Walter. Illuminations. Ed. Hannah Arendt. Trans. Harry Zorn. London: Pimlico, 1999.)

during the 1901 Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, New York.

These documents are not to be duplicated or taken out of the

custody of the Department of Justice or the United States Government.

To do so will result in the prosecution and imprisonment of any

individuals involved in such actions.

My name is Samuel Clemens and I was asked by certain government officials of the highest levels to record a recent adventure I took part in. Most in the world would find this story unbelievable, and some would say it was nothing more than a creation of my writer’s imagination. I assure whoever may read this account; this story is true, fantastic but true. Also this is the only account of this tale because the extraordinary gentlemen I shared this adventure with, as well as myself have been sworn to secrecy. The proper “cover-up” has begun and appropriate steps have been made to keep the world at large from learning the truth, because if the truth were ever fully revealed then a worldwide panic could ensue. Knowing what I know now, I wholeheartedly agree withWashington’s security measures. After these events I am reminded of what Shakespeare wrote of things in Heaven and Earth, and I admit I have been forced to rethink some of my philosophies.

Samuel Clemens;

(Mark Twain)

September 16, 1901

I recently returned home to Riverdale with Livy after a brief visit to a favorite city of mine that I once called home.Buffalo, New Yorkhas grown by incredible measures; industry, invention, population. Basically every aspect of modern man’s life has been expounded by leaps and bounds. A prime example of this growth is how some homes in the region have been outfitted for the new electrical light, while most remain “stuck” with gas. This is all thanks to some brilliant minds being able to harness the unimaginable power out of the American and Canadian falls at Niagara Falls, NY. Although I wonder how long this can last, only man’s foolish arrogance can assume that we can fully ensnare the power Mother Nature possesses.

As I mentioned, Livy and I just returned home from Buffalo, where we attended the Pan-American Exposition, which I must say was very impressive. I am hopeful that the showcase was a boon to the city, but from the turnout I saw, I am doubtful. Of course one must keep in mind the Exposition has been going on since May, and will continue to do so for another month and a half, so only time will tell.

It was good to see some of my old friends and acquaintances from The Buffalo Express, whom I was able to reintroduce, and in some cases finally introduce Livy to. I really have let too much time pass since I met up with old friends and talked about past glories. Introducing Livy to my old friends and showing her my old home on Delaware Avenue made me feel good, letting her into this part of my past did us both good. Granted we met in Buffalo, but there were things, long forgotten by most that I was involved with, that in telling Livy helped me finally clear the air, and made me feel like a new man. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to talk about these events, but for now, they’ll stay between me and Livy.

Well while attending the Exposition we met up with old friends and through them made new ones. One lady in particular was a Ms. L. Barrett, the headmistress of a girl’s school in Buffalo. Ms. Barrett who lives near the Expo Grounds, frequently hosts guests of all sorts in her lavish parlor. The night Livy and I met Ms. Barrett through a friend from The Express, she invited us over for refreshments and stimulating conversation. In exchange for a few libations I regaled Ms. Barrett and her company with some of my tales from my greener days when I piloted steamboats, helped form the Marion Rangers during the Civil War, and wrote of some of the most amazing characters of my imagination including a certain celebrated frog, spirited boys like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, and the challenging Hank Morgan. I found the lady of the house a most intelligent and intriguing creature of beauty as well, that I must call on again when I return toBuffalo.

As for the Exposition itself there was plenty to see and do for all. Demonstrations and exhibits of all kinds including the Temple of Music, the Vencian Cannels, the African Village along the Midway, the Horti Culture Exhibit, and the Acetylene Showcase. But most impressive was the Tower Electrical Building which stands like a giant beacon for the city. I must admit I felt a swell of pride for a friend of mine who worked on and helped design the Tower. This of course was not the first or last of my friend’s achievements, but quite arguably this massive structure may have been his greatest.

Well I suppose the true starting point of this tale was September 6, 1901, when Polish anarchist Leon Czolgosz shot President William McKinley and then Czolgosz entered the Halls of Eternal Infamy when the commander in chief died eight days later from the gangrene that set into his body. The country was sent into a state of shock and disbelief it had seldom seen and everyone seems to be still in a state of mourning. The world went on, and so did the people of Buffalo. In an peculiar way I believe the Exposition was a benefit to the citizens because the locals who were working at the Expo, and in the surrounding industries of hotels, cab drivers, restaurateurs, rooming houses, and oh so many others who also depend on these industries, these people and so many others not only needed the jobs and the money working the Expo provided but also the care and feeding of the visitors helped bring the people of Buffalo a feeling of purpose that was needed. 

 I fully entered this story on the afternoon of the fifteenth, the day after the death of President McKinley. I was feeling out of sorts, as we all were and Livy and I left our hotel on Delawareand took a horse-drawn carriage ride to the Expo Grounds. There seemed to be an uncomfortable silence between us, but it seemed to cover the entire city like a shroud. The weather was a surprising treat; instead of the a rainy and foul autumn day, the air was cool and crisp, with blue skies, white clouds drifting about lazily like a puffy dandelion seed carrying stems blown apart by a child on a summer’s day.

As we headed towards the grounds Livy and I tried to discuss our day’s plans and the events and exhibits we hadn’t seen yet, that we wanted to. She was most anxious to see the production A Trip to the Moon. I must admit I was curious to see how this would compare to the works of Wells and Verne. We entered the northwesterly entrance at a portion of the Midway that held exhibits from various cultures around the world. These showcases were insulting representations of the Anglo’s view of people different from themselves. As we passed by these “cultures” of the African, Hawaiian, Mexican, Filipino, and Native American, my own indifferences from my younger and more foolhardy days flashed through my mind and I felt ashamed of past actions and attitudes. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to atone for them.

As Livy and I reached the showpiece of the Expo, the Electrical Tower, we were overtaken with a sense of awe and wonder at the beacon. We had only seen it from a distance the previous week, and at night. But up close during the daytime was something entirely different. This structure was the equal to the Colossus of Rhodes in strength and power. I knew my old friend had helped develop the Tower’s lighting and electrical systems and felt rightfully proud of what he accomplished. My lady fair had been told by our hotel’s bellman of an excellent, exclusive restaurant in the Tower, and she wanted to go. Being the man who I am, who was I to deny her anything?

As we came past the Streets of Mexico displays and turned towards the Tower we saw a man rushing towards the Tower past the crowds as if he were oblivious to the men, women, children and events going on around him. When I saw him I could not believe my eyes because it was the very man I had been thinking about, my friend the inventor Nikola Tesla. I called out to Nikola while rushing away from Livy and towards my old friend, and after a third time he finally heard me and turned back. It was a great moment for us, since it had been some time since we had seen one another, and after the proper introductions had been made, for a few moments there was an uncomfortable silence, but after they passed, Nikola and Livy seemed to take a real liking to one another. The uneasiness may have been due to the initial awkwardness of two parts of my life coming together and meeting one another for the first time. We explained we were about to go to lunch and invited Nikola to join us, then he explained he needed to check some of the lighting equipment at the top of the Tower, but would join us after he finished.

We ordered what turned out to be an excellent lunch of pork, veal, and porterhouse steak, with various cheeses and luncheon meats such as ham, turkey, roast beef, sardines, and caviar as our appetizers. To drink I recall there was Golden fizz, Claret Lemonade, a disappointing Claret, and some good old-fashioned draft beer. All in all a grand meal.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur between Nikola and I telling Livy of our past adventures, Livy and I telling him of domestic misadventures, or the pair of them telling one another some of my more embarrassing moments and sharing a laugh or two at my expense. After lunch Nikola gave us a tour of the Tower and a private showing of some of his latest inventions on display, some of which were even more fantastic than anything Hank Morgan used in Camelot. After attending the Expo and seeing A Trip to the Moon we began to make dinner plans as the day was drawing late. We headed towards another restaurant along the Midway near where Livy and I entered the grounds, and as we strolled along we could not help but notice a group of children swarming around a young couple. The man and woman looked familiar but I could not remember from where I had previously seen them, and finally the man gave in to the children’s pleas. We stopped and watched as he performed some amazing slight of hand with a girl’s cameo, and collimated his act with a few borrowed props to make his wife, I learned later, “hypnotized” and suspend her in mid air. After the impromptu show it finally occurred to me where I had seen them before. The previous year I had to attend to business in London,England, and while there Livy and I saw a performance at Albert Hall of the great Harry Houdini.

After the children scattered, we introduced ourselves to the Houdinis and congratulated them. Harry and Bess were most gracious and complimentary about my books as I was about their performances, and we invited them to join us for dinner and soon the five of us found ourselves at an authentic Oriental restaurant on the Midway.

As dinner progressed talk turned to how many other famous or infamous celebrities who were also in attendance. We knew Buffalo Bill Cody and his Wild West Show were here to entertain the children, and I understood that Conrad Diehl, mayor of Buffalo has been in attendance regularly, and various members of the Albright family have been seen here, despite the labor and union problems going on with their future museum still under construction. George Pierce who created a motorette, the newly appointed President

Theodore Roosevelt, the once proud and great warrior Geronimo, famous sculptor Augustus Saint Garders and as I found out there was one more who was not well received by one of us, one Thomas Edison. I am not privy to all the details, but I know Nikola and Edison met in 1884 after Tesla arrived in New York City, and the two inventors had a major falling out. As far as I know Nikola has not spoken to or forgiven Edison at all.

After dinner our collective merriment entered the night and it seemed as if the “shroud” I previously spoke of had been lifted much to my relief. The sun had set and the Expo grounds hummed with an electrical buzz of power flowing into the buildings and showing off the lights that illuminated whatever they touched. Most impressive was the Tower’s light which leapt across the inky sky, like a child playing hopscotch.

Our little group was at the Court of Fountains in front of the Tower and as we were talking over lemonades, I noticed Nikola staring off into space, and he pointed out to us that there was something in the sky. We began to look up, as did other Expo goers, which was not difficult to do since the object grew larger. At first glance one could mistake it for another star, but it was growing.

Nikola pointed out that it was not growing but getting closer to us, getting closer to the Earth. With each second that passed the tension grew stronger, and a lot of people began to grow nervous including myself, but I could see Livy was scared and I suspect Bess was as well because Houdini began to rush her towards the exit, and I followed suit with Livy.

Once we all were onAmherst Streetwe saw the crowds turning into a panicked mob, since the object was the size of a house while it was getting larger and closer still. By this point we could clearly see that it was round, almost like a sphere, except it looked angular as if the sides were pieces of glass joined at the ends and sides. The sphere was glowing red hot and its entry into our atmosphere not only left a streaking trail of fire and smoke, but also a hideous and deafening, whistling scream which sounded as if a bomb were being dropped. The closer it came the more noise it produced, and the more cries and screams came from the crowded Expo grounds. Livy and I held onto one another unsure what was about to happen, and finally the sphere crashed into Park Lake sending up a wall of water and the steam was rushing up like a rising curtain when the curious onlookers reached the crash site behind the developing art gallery.

At this point half the crowd had run away by foot, carriages drawn by equally terrified horses, or even on bicycles stolen from the Expo Grounds. The other half consisted of the brave, the curious, and of course local law enforcement and members of the US Army who were in attendance. By the time the five of us reached the site the Army had the area cordoned off, but from what I could see the curiosity of the brave reached a certain point because no one was getting too close to the water, which was still steaming as the object was changing colors from a red hot to an opaque glassy color. Due to the cooling the sphere now looked like a cheap bobble, except for its massive size.

The silence of the crowd slowly changed over to a murmur of questions, speculations, innuendos, anything but the truth. All sorts of ideas were tossed about like balls on a tennis court, and some sounded as fantastic as any story I could have written. “Was it a weapon from a foreign power? Or perhaps it’s something from the gods of old. Or maybe it’s just a fake object.” No one was sure but as the seconds passed the crowd’s fears gradually were overtaken by the natural twinges of curiosity, and from our position we could see some folks trying to get a closer look as others who attempted to venture into the water were detained by the Army troops who were surprised by their sudden duties, after only expecting to be on display in either parades or in the mock battles with Geronimo.

As the soldiers began to force back the encroaching onlookers, the sphere shifted a bit, and as it rolled to a dead stop a crack formed. This tiny fissure ran across the vessel like quicksilver, as everyone looked on in shock and soon horror took hold of all when the vessel fell apart and the vessel’s passenger came out. At first it looked as if there were a smaller vessel inside the first one, but much to our terror it wasn’t. The second crystal structure began to move with stiffness and groaning that could have paralleled Lazarus. A serpentine neck arched upwards with a head that could have belonged to the Hydra that Hercules slew. It stretched out four legs with a flaying tail in the rear, swiping back and forth slamming into whatever was unlucky enough to be in its path. It was round, smooth, and just like the vessel that brought it except this… whatever was alive, and very angry.

The Crystal Dinosaur (for lack of a better term) roared with the sound of a hundred exploding railroad engines come to life. The people did not have to be told what to do; as soon as the beast quaked with life the crowds began to run. In truth they panicked and the madness was equal to the destruction that was coming. The masses ran back towards our group, but we were moving as fast as we could towards the closest carriage, which was hard to catch considering the horses were justifiably panicky. We were able to stay ahead of the mass exodus, and able to load the ladies in and about to join them when the monster did something totally unexpected. From standing on one of the wheels I saw the creature pausing, inhale deeply, then exhaling a cloud of some sort. The cloud spread out and I could see the crowds closest to the beast dropping like flies, all the while screaming out in agony in levels I never thought possible.

As we watched, a couple of men tried to force their way onto our carriage and almost pulled Bess out, but before Houdini or any of us could act, our driver stood up, kicked one of the men in the stomach, while he used the horse whip on the other, the one who grabbed at Bess. Once he was down Houdini gave him a gut shot that took the wind out of his sails. I can’t blame Harry in the least. With Nikola in the front next to the driver, who we learned was a decent fella named William Donovan, and the rest of us riding in back in the carriage, we headed off the grounds for safety among the insanity. We went right for Ms. Barrett’s home since it was closer than the hotel was and we decided to leave the women there if Ms. Barrett was home; if not we’d leave them nearby. The three, now four of us realized we had to go back and help anyone there; it wasn’t a matter of choice. We had to go back and find out what was going on, and hopefully the Army had stopped the creature.

Luckily Ms. Barrett was home hosting a few guests in her parlor, but they had heard and seen the sphere streaking into the atmosphere, and she was happy to allow Livy and Bess to stay over until our return, but our wives were understandably not pleased with our decision to return. The moment Houdini and I said our goodbyes, we made similar promises we would come back.

By the time we reached the grounds there wasn’t any traffic about, foot or otherwise and we couldn’t understand where everyone had gone to. Surely the creature, whose bellowing roars we could still hear, couldn’t have killed everyone there. The horses were more than skittish and obviously showing better sense than us since they wanted to get out of the area like every other form of animal life had. Donovan tied the horses to a fence post and gently patted them down, trying to steady their nerves and calm them before joining us even though we implored him to leave us, but our new friend showed his true character when he told us he couldn’t leave us behind. One can only hope this new century is full of such men. From the sounds of the beast, we figured it had come ashore and was on the grounds, and we knew more people died. We knew we would have to defend ourselves, and Nikola led us to the Electrical Tower where we found some of the Expo goers had held up and were hiding. They told us the monster had stomped all over the grounds using its breath to kill whatever and wherever it could. We knew we had to stop it or at least make the attempt. The witnesses told us the Army attempted to stop it, but were unsuccessful.

Nikola led us to one of the displays Livy and I had been shown that afternoon, that possessed some very special arms, and inside we found some new types of rifle that fires bolts of electricity. Nikola explained they were meant to stun or shock the target without killing it. He calls the weapons “stun guns”, not a bad name if I do say so myself. After a fast explanation of how the guns operated, the four of us headed out of the Tower in search of the creature, despite the fact several people tried to keep us from going. We could see the Midway to the Court of the Fountains was clear, but when we reached the bandstands we came across one of the grizzliest sights imaginable. I am a skilled writer, but even I doubt I have the ability to convey the sheer nightmarish horror we saw when we came across some of the victims of the beast. Bodies were dissolving right before our eyes, and from the smell Nikola told us the beast’s cloud bursts had to be pure sulfuric acid. He knew the odor from his works but never imagined it could be used in such a way to destroy. The people in front of us were dead and the only thing we could do was pray for them and stop the creature from killing any more, but the sight of the dying Poles, Irish, Germans, Negroes, nationals and foreigners, young and old, men, women, and children will haunt me to my dying days.

As we crossed over and went around the dead towardsMirrorLakewe heard two things; first was a man at the Tower who was yelling for us to get inside, while waving us back. The second was the roar of the beast and it was coming closer. We saw its crystal, serpent-like neck peering over the Horticulture Building, and we could see it eyeing us. We moved quickly back towards the Tower as the beast inhaled deeply and started to give chase. One step that thundered was followed by another, and another, and another, and each shook the ground nearly causing us to fall. When it reached the bandstand, we were at the Tower entrance, and we could see it was about to exhale.

The young Mr. Donovan lined up a shot to cover the rest of us and instead of lead, a crackling blue/white energy exploded from the barrel. The beast howled out in pain when the shot hit its head, then it got a massive burst when the rest of us joined Donovan in firing at the beast. Fortunately it did not like the sensation and retreated back towards Park Lake. Once inside the Tower we met with the man who waved us back, and much to our surprise it was fellow author Arthur Conan Doyle.

Naturally I wanted to speak to the man about a great many things, but that would have to wait. He lead us past many of the same people we saw before, some who just saw us make our stand, and now they had a sense of hope after the monster’s retreat. As he led us past the lobby and the shell-shocked, Doyle explained that once the beast started attacking, people ran for any shelter they could find because those left outside were struck down by its acidic breath. He led us to a private elevator and explained he was sent to get us by some men upstairs who were trying to come up with attack plans, but could not agree on any one plan. Doyle went on to explain that after we left to protect the women, the Army, local police, and Expo security tried to stop the monster, but their standard rifles and side arms were like gnat stings against a rampaging elephant, and when the beast let out a second burst of its acidic breath, the defenders were killed instantly. When the elevator opened up a few floors below the beacon that was still dancing in the sky above us all, we found ourselves in a boardroom of some sorts that overlooked the grounds and the spot where we were just fighting the beast. They saw everything and saw that men would not give up without a fight. Inside the room we met one of the Exposition’s backers, a man who many considered to be a “robber baron” J.P. Morgan and much to my surprise and Nikola’s disgust Thomas Edison. As soon I realized who it was I thought the situation was tense enough and this would not help matters.

After the introductions were made, Morgan and Edison told us they witnessed our stand and were impressed, and they were wondering if Tesla’s rifles could kill the creature. The rifles were incapable of killing. I knew the very idea went against Nikola’s philosophies, but he explained that after seeing the beast first hand, he formed a theory that the rifles would hurt it, but to do any real damage we would have to penetrate its crystal hide. We would need something of incredible power that could continue to hammer through. It was here that Nikola hit his head with his hand when he realized what he called for should have been obvious. He explained the Tower’s light at the top could be converted into a source of energy he had been experimenting with. He claimed it would become a “death beam” right out of the science fiction genre. With help it could be converted, the only problem being he was unsure of the range, so the beast would have to be in front of the Tower. This meant someone would have to be the bait.Edisonhated to admit it but he agreed with his former partner’s theories and supported them. It was quickly decided Nikola, Edison, and Morgan would gather some of the men who were hiding with us, those who knew the equipment and would make the changes needed, while Houdini, Donovan, Doyle (who volunteered to aid us), and myself would draw out the invader. May fortune favor the foolish and the bold.

We realized we needed speed to outrun or circle the beast so after showing Doyle how to use the rifles; we acquired a few more exhibits from the Tower’s lobby. George Pierce’s 1901 Pierce Motorette carried myself and Doyle, while Houdini and Donovan rode out on a pair of 1900 motorized chainless bicycles. As our quirky safari headed out I could not help but think of Hank Morgan and the Knights of the Round Table coming to save him and Arthur Pendragon in my tale of a Connecticut Yankee.

Nikola told me afterwards, as soon as we left he and the others gathered all the men they could, and led them to the top of the Tower to convert the light into the most powerful weapon mankind has ever seen, and God willing would never be needed again after this night.

Nikola told us they would need ten minutes to make the proper changes whatever they were. Fortunately the Tower already had the equipment needed, so we figured we would distract the monster with a version of the children’s game of tag, where we would take turns getting the beast’s attention and then flee, ultimately drawing it towards the Tower. Breathing was getting difficult because of the amounts of acid that hung in the air, but we went on and found the beast near the Indian Mound, and after a moment’s silent prayer we opened fire at the neck (which looked like a weak point) and did little damage, but we got its undivided attention.

It howled out in pain, and was very mad. It began a raging charge and we retreated as fast as the vehicles could go. We split up with Doyle and I headed west towards the Elmwood Gates, and the others went northeast, but the beast came after us. Seeing this Donovan stopped and fired, hitting the beast in the tail, and in doing so drawing its rage. Suddenly it turned and went after them. It picked up speed and was determined to kill again. Doyle and I went north past the Indian Congress Building, trying to keep up. We could see the beast trying to reach our friends and we couldn’t reach the beast with our rifles from where we were, so we crossed the mall and saw the duo split up with Donovan coming towards us and Houdini headed north towards the stadium. The beast targeted Donovan and then us. Seeing this Houdini got into position, fired and hit the beast in its posterior. After another deafening roar it turned and charged after Houdini, smashing its way through the Agriculture Building in a desperate attempt to get him. We could see the beast inhaling knowing what it was planning, while the mage was swerving back and forth trying to confuse his pursuer, but it didn’t do any good. We could see the monster exhale its cloud destroying all in its wake. One moment we saw the magician outrunning it and the next the acidic cloud overtaking his bicycle. After that we could only see the monster standing amid its clouds at ground level and it was roaring celebration.

We could not tell if our friend was alive or dead, but we knew this monstrosity had to be stopped or there would be no telling how many would die in the city, let alone the world. Donovan ordered us to exit the Motorette and got in; he told us he might be able to buy us some time. Doyle and I took our rifles, and watched as Donovan built up sped and momentum then charged at the creature. He fired his weapon at the head, and seeing what he was doing we fired to help blind it from seeing Donovan’s charge. Just before he got too close Donovan leapt from the Motorette, rolled onto the ground as the vehicle slammed into the left front leg. Its bellowing roar was louder than before, so the exploding carriage did the trick. The thing’s head whipped back and forth in true agony, and finally it saw Donovan running towards us, and attempted to move as best it could, but there was a noticeable limp and we could see cracks in the leg at the point of impact. As Donovan reached us, Doyle and I fired at the head going for the eyes of the beast, as it crossed the grounds towards us preparing to belch out more acid. Donovan fired at the fresh wound which only enraged the monster more, and as it came closer to us we were preparing to run, then an amazing golden/orange light exploded from the Tower. The beam focused on the grounds and at the beast and stayed there. It pierced the side of the beast causing it to glow from the inside and out. From our position we could see the internal skeletal structure of it, and it seemed as if black obsidian was surrounded by the opaque crystal. The invader turned to face the new threat and tried to attack the Tower, but the energy beam kept on coming at it, destroying it from the inside out. Ultimately its organs must have finally given out because the beast gave out an agonizing death knell. It slumped to the ground and it tried to rise again but was unable to. Seeing the creature in this state gave me no joy, and in a sense I felt a touch of pity for it, but it had to be done for the greater good. With the energy beam continuing, the body glowed as bright as a summer’s sunset off Lake Erie and the remains cracked and splintered finally shattering into a million pieces.

The beam ended as we ran to the Tower and were greeted by Morgan, Tesla, and Edison who explained they kept an eye on us as best they could, and had made the final connections to the beacon just as the creature was coming at the three of us. The moment of celebration passed when Morgan asked about the whereabouts of Houdini. We told them what we knew, and went to find his body for Bess. We owed it to her, and to the world. As we were about to begin the grim search a miracle happened; from behind the Tower, a haggard and looking almost drowned Harry Houdini emerged from the shadows, as if he were walking out of the jaws of death once again. He explained as we gathered around him, that when the monster was on top of him, he drove his bicycle right into the Vencian Canals that surround the Expo Grounds. After his drive and dive, Houdini swam underwater till he reached the rear of the Tower almost as if he were performing a stage illusion.

A few hours later after reinforcements arrived, including military and government officials we were all debriefed and asked by certain agents, some men in black told us that someone special wanted to speak to the seven of us, since we were the major players in this game. We were brought to a small white and green wooden structure with glass windows on all sides, which was near a powerhouse. Inside we met with President Roosevelt, and essentially he asked us to not to speak about what happened. The officials would pass on the story that a methane gas explosion caused the problems at the Expo, killing a large number of people. We agreed when President Roosevelt told us after the assassination of President McKinley, he believed the country was enough on edge, but if the truth were known this could ensure a worldwide panic no society could handle.

It was here Nikola mentioned he may have been responsible for the attack. He once told me he could make radio waves reach the planets Mars and Venus, and this was not an idle boast. While he was conducting this sort of experiment in the past few days at the facility inNorth Bayon the Electric Fountain location, he thought it was appropriate with Venus being so close to Earth’s orbit the “whatever” may have come from there. Nikola’s theory was that someone or something sent the “Crystalsaurus” as it would be known, to Earth as a possible precursor to an invasion or to see where the radio wave originated from; either way President Roosevelt told us that “certain individuals” would be ready to handle any more “visitors”. I do know the guilt Nikola felt plagued him till his last days, I’d wager. We shut down his radio wave experiments and Nikola swore to never do this again, and hopefully this event would not happen again.

I found out the remains were to be buried under the foundation of the Albright Art Museum since it was still under construction; the officials felt it would be an appropriate hiding or burial place. The pieces were placed in bedrock and poured over with cement, but I know Edison and Tesla both were able to sneak away with a piece of the crystal body, due to their scientific curiosity, I gather. I found out Nikola believed the creature was a life form based on silicon not carbon like us. Fascinating theories from these minds. Well the survivors either agreed to go along with the gas explosion story, and certain pay offs were made to people or certain threats were made. I guess government business as usual, but I agree with why this was done.

Finally I was asked by President Roosevelt to make a record of these events for posterity, but maybe we need to forget, just in case. And for us seven life goes on back to normal, whatever that is.

—Samuel Clemens

Mark Twain

September 16, 1901

• This was a semester ending project for an English Lit class I took, and all the books had something to do with Buffalo, NY and it covered a number of different authors & subjects.
• I wrote this story from the perspective of Mark Twain, as a first hand accounts of what happened and how he & six other extraordinary men save the city and the world. Of course this is fiction. Ha-Ha.
• When I finished the story I went over the top and made my project look & feel like a lost Government report. I went so far as to get golden aged paper from Office Max, and when glued to a 3 clip folder, the folder looked and felt like a real folder. I didn’t have to do it, but wanted to, to add as a finishing touch. And it came out amazing. I wish I could post pics of it. I also made a ‘photograph’ of  the seven heroes, which was tough to fake considering I couldn’t find any pictures of William Donovan at 18 years old, but this still came out good.
• When I was writing this story I did more research than almost anything else I wrote because I had to research the 1901 Pan-Am Expo, the seven men featured, the city of Buffalo at this point in history, the book City of Light, Nikola Tesla’s inventions, among other things I can’t remember. But one of the coolest things was I got to tour a small museum devoted completely to the Expo. What’s funny is my classmates didn’t take advantage of it, and then got really jealous when they found out I had the place to myself after calling and making arraignments.

Ok, that said I want to give a brief rundown of who’s who:

1. Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, 1835 – April 21, 1910), better known by his pen name Mark Twain, was an American author and humorist. He is most noted for his novels, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876), and its sequel, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885),the latter often called “the Great American Novel.” I chose Twain for a number of reasons, one being that Twain has a strong connection to Buffalo, NY, having been a writer at the city’s newspaper, and having returned here many times. Second the man was a bit of an adventurer, having helped form the Marion Rangers during the Civil War. The irony of this, is I learned after my story was done Twain never attended the Expo.
2. Nikola Tesla (Serbian Cyrillic: Никола Тесла; 10 July 1856 – 7 January 1943) was a Serbian-American inventor, mechanical engineer, and electrical engineer. He was an important contributor to the birth of commercial electricity, and is best known for developing the modern alternating current (AC) electrical supply system.Tesla’s patents and theoretical work also formed the basis of wireless communication and the radio. Tesla was responsible for the region getting electrical power from Niagara Falls. His Tesla Coils are still in use today.
3. Thomas Alva Edison (February 11, 1847 – October 18, 1931) was an American inventor and businessman. He developed many devices that greatly influenced life around the world, including the phonograph, the motion picture camera, and a long-lasting, practical electric light bulb. Dubbed “The Wizard of Menlo Park” (now Edison, New Jersey) by a newspaper reporter, he was one of the first inventors to apply the principles of mass production and large teamwork to the process of invention, and therefore is often credited with the creation of the first industrial research laboratory. One of the most brilliant men of his generation, I felt Edison was a natural fit, despite the fact he and Tesla hated one another for real.
4. John Pierpont Morgan (April 17, 1837 – March 31, 1913) was an American financier, banker and art collector who dominated corporate finance and industrial consolidation during his time. In 1892 Morgan arranged the merger of Edison General Electric and Thomson-Houston Electric Company to form General Electric. After financing the creation of the Federal Steel Company he merged in 1901 with the Carnegie Steel Company and several other steel and iron businesses, including Consolidated Steel and Wire Company owned by William Edenborn, to form the United States Steel Corporation. Although not a major player in my story, J.P. Morgan fit well since he was a financial backer of the Expo in real life.
5. Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle DL (22 May 1859 – 7 July 1930) was a Scottish physician and writer, most noted for his stories about the detective Sherlock Holmes, generally considered a milestone in the field of crime fiction, and for the adventures of Professor Challenger. He was a prolific writer whose other works include science fiction stories, plays, romances, poetry, non-fiction, historical novels and humours (‘Exploits of Brigadier E.Gerard’). Ok this was a stretch since I learned just recently that due to a major philosophical differences Doyle had a major falling out and hated …
6. Harry Houdini (born Erik Weisz, later Ehrich Weiss, a.k.a. Harry Weiss; March 24, 1874 – October 31, 1926) was a Hungarian-born American magician and escapologist, stunt performer, actor and film producer noted for his sensational escape acts. He was also a skeptic who set out to expose frauds purporting to be supernatural phenomena. I could not resist using Houdini. Some call him the world’s first superhero, some believe he was a spy for the British and American governments, and with his skill sets, I can believe it. And still there are those who think he really had some sort powers that allowed him to make his escapes. I don’t know about that, but he’s one of those historical persons that’s always fascinated me, and I always wanted to write about. Next time I’d love to write a book about or with the man. 
7. William Joseph “Wild Bill” Donovan (January 1, 1883 – February 8, 1959) was a United States soldier, lawyer and intelligence officer. Donovan is best remembered as the wartime head of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS). He is also known as the “Father of American Intelligence” and the “Father of Central Intelligence.” Ok I know some may not know who Bill Donovan was but, he was a Buffalo native who is one native son we’re proud of. Being that he was 18 years old when the Expo was going on I figure he was another natural fit.

I also referenced a character in passing from City of Lights, which was an amazing read.  The story is set in the city of Buffalo, New York in 1901, as the Pan-American Exposition’s planning and construction is under way. The main character and narrator, Louisa Barrett, is headmistress of the Macaulay School for Girls, inspired by The Buffalo Seminary and is a very influential woman in a time of male predominance. The first major event in the book is the death of Karl Speyer, an engineering hero that designed the generators for the hydroelectric plant at Niagara Falls. This causes a chain of events that leads Louisa to become involved in the struggle of the city’s hierarchy for control of Niagara. Although she wasn’t relevent to my story, I mentioned Barrett. Louisa Barrett is the 34-year-old headmistress of the Macaulay School for Girls.

So there it is; up next an Official Account of an event that never occurred according to the United States Government. Enjoy.

Today, I took some time to clean my shelf and fix my books. Look at my output:

I had to add bookends on top of my shelf for my latest books – most of which are gifts from friends (THANK YOU GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MY ADDICTION <3  )

Ah, my heaven! <3

The world has just been too hard and strange to really comment on these past few days. I have been busy trying to reconnect with old friends and lost acquaintances which always has odd results. The challenge of this life is to not lose the foundational pieces of your friendships while constantly being able to shed the waste. As I head back to PEI, I hope to reforge the old connections into strong rings that I can fasten a new future to, I may fail, but it is my final attempt to make peace with my origins. I thought that for tonight’s photographs I would play with the idea of self portraits: a key for self promotion, but a real pain to focus and find a real vision of. I went with a full set of “looks”, none of which I think are the real me, but which I think would meet with more approval than my current Facebook icons.

I have been asked by a few visitors to the studio “Have you read all of these books?” My usual answer to such a question is “No…of course not.” Ironically, I believe the questioner is always disappointed that I have not read all of the books in my possession instead of seeing the potential within my library for learning within the span of my entire lifetime. I do not own all of the books that I have read, nor have I read all of the books that I own. I firmly believe that the purpose of a library is to provide a foundation form which a man can research, explore and become intimate with the great literatures of our world. I seldom read for entertainment, but rather I tackle the classic pieces of literature that I was too weak to read in earlier days. Reading deeply demands a readiness of its readers, and that is not so simple. Surely, I could speed through a few novels and pretend to be an aficionado, but I would rather keep my journey steady and constant.

Tonight, I picked my copy of War and Peace. It is a sumptuous limited edition produced by the Folio Society that I purchased to ensure I took the time to read it in it entirety; nothing motivates one to read more than having paid a large sum of money for a particular book. My fun books this year have been Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, H.G. Wells’  The Island of Dr. Moreau, Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Dashiel Hamnmt’s The Thin Man and Haruki Murakami’s A Wild Sheep Chase. My challenges since January were Dostoevsky’s The Idiot, The New Testament, Franza Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and Dickens’ David Copperfield. 

My list is short. I would be misleading you, however, if I pretended that I did not regularly graze other novels to test whether I am ready to pick them for an entire read. Don Quixote, Infinite Jest, Mission to Tashkent and countless others have been begun, but reshelved because my brain was not prepared for what was being offered.

I have been silent about the business end of my photography. For the most part, I have been considering the state of the world at large and how that might affect what I want to do in the future. I should be clear that over the past three years I have shot, and been paid for, almost every type of photography I could have hoped for. From a book cover to an album cover, from a thousand catalogue images to a newborn session, from to the most complex food photography to shooting hundreds of rolls of film in a dozen countries – I have been living a dream.

A relative remarked [or at least I have heard it said through filters of other relatives] that “Anthony has such expensive cameras”. Yes. I do.  Fortunately, I have re-invested all of my money made from the business into classic cameras and lenses that would make any studio envious to a degree. I have purchased used manual lenses and bodies from the Hasselblad line and two of the best auto-focus prime lenses from Canon. I should note that since I made my own purchases the cameras and lenses have pretty much disappeared from the market or risen in price to new levels. I really feel like I came in at the right time and bought what was essential for the next decade of my work.

As well, I was given a Leica M3 and I recently bought into a large format Linhof camera with Schenider Kreuznach lenses. I run all of the cutting edge software on multiple hard drives, but my best work is always done on film. My equipment is not a hindrance, but rather it is a series of brushes that I am learning to paint with over a lifetime.

The funny part is that I have seldom been commissioned to shoot the same type of photography, and I believe that by September this year I had come to a slight identity crisis as to who I was or who I wanted to be as a photographer. So I did what any successful artist should do – shut everything down until I am certain of who I want to become as a photographer. I have not asked for work. I have not mentioned my camera. I have focused on my health, my family and my teaching.

Today, while writing my blog entry I took a look at my commercial work for the first time in months, and I felt a joy at the beauty I saw in the simple gallery. The vibrant colours, the unique styling and the consistency of that style awakened why I picked up a camera in the first place. My website looks perfect, and I expect it to evolve into a more interesting place over the next few months as I build content for photographers to come to.

I should also add that I have had a long, hard think about where V. fits into the business. Anyone who has seen her work has seen the validity in her vision and the difference in perspective between our work. It has been tough to find the proper, respectful way to mesh our work into a workable business model; not that I have not been trying. Age and life experiences are a major factor in my hesitations and inability to design a fair partnership that will move us both forward. I am so focused on the giddy idea that people pay for my art within the commercial realm that I just could not share; I could give the spotlight, but not share it in a way that was authentic and confident. I still do not have a full response to the proposal, but I am willing to wait it out until I can find a way to synthesize our work – within time a convergence will happen, and I am willing to wait for the right moment, as rushed ventures are only for angels.

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Artspace New Haven is a nonprofit that showcases local and national visual art, providing access, excellence, and education for the benefit of the public and the greater arts community. Its current exhibition is titled “Library Science”, conceived by New York-based curator Rachel Gugelberger. The exhibition contemplates our personal, intellectual, and physical relationships with the library, focusing on how these relations are changing as libraries adapt to the digital world. From its socio-cultural meaning to its architectural space and classification tools, the library informs the methodology and practice of the artists in “Library Science.”

Presented are the works of 17 artists in a variety of media, including drawing, photography, sculpture, installation, painting, and web-based projects. In conjunction with the exhibition at Artspace, Connecticut artists were invited to submit proposals for research residencies towards creating site- and situation-specific projects at local libraries. “Library Science” seeks to encourage librarians to forge relationships with artists and support the creation and presentation of new artwork by providing assistance with research and access to information.

In a further exploration of personal libraries, Artspace has been contacting librarians (especially those who blog) to invite them to submit written contributions, photographs of their personal libraries, top-ten shelves (ten favorite books), etc. Below is my submission, focusing on my relationship to my personal home library and books as a source of companionship and learning. I encourage other bloggers to write on these topics and send links to their posts to sinclaire(at)artspacenh(dot)org so that she can link to them from the “Library Science” exhibit page.

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Tell Me Again How the Stories Will Differ
When Read on the Screen Instead of on Paper

I’m fairly certain that when the first e-reader was announced, my family released a collective sigh of relief. Surely not because this technology marked the beginning of an era wherein economics and privacy governed the access of information, but because they assumed they would not have to lug another single box of my books to a new residence. In 27 years I have lived in six apartments and a closet (part Harry Potter reference, part truth), each move accompanied by box upon box of skillfully-penned, woefully-bound trade paperbacks. Is it blasphemous for a librarian to prefer the flimsy, mass-produced edition over the handsome hardcover volume? Although my personal library may be organized by color, it does not exist simply as an element of design. No, my books are here to be used, abused, written on, bent up, dropped in tubs, covered in sand, read, re-read, shared, lost, given away. Plainly put, my books make my home.

The three shelves pictured here used to sit in my grandmother’s hallway in Buffalo, NY, stuffed to the brim with the books of May Sarton, Graham Greene, Anaïs Nin, and Colette with assorted wildflower identification manuals and travel guides thrown in for good measure. A personal library is a funny thing. For some, home book collections contain reading material laced with lowbrow embarrassment. For me, being able to look at my shelves and instantly recall when I first read A Girl of the Limberlost (freshman year of high school), who got me hooked on The Clan of the Cave Bear (my older brother), and where I randomly picked up The Handmaid’s Tale (a garage sale), makes me feel like I’ve finally reached land at the end of a long and terrible sea voyage. I distinctly remember a bloody paper cut smearing the pages of The Life of Pi, my tears rippling the pages of Cathy Ostlere’s Lost and the phantom pain in my jaw after we read Autobiography of a Face in my college class on memoir. I have books left behind by past boyfriends, remember stealing my mom’s copy of Summer Sisters (there are dirty bits in there, people!), and my dad has not once, but twice, gifted me copies of The Dharma Bums. My books bring me comfort and have taught me as many lessons as life itself.

Given my overt love of reading, it often comes as a surprise to many friends and family members that I rarely work with print books in my career as a librarian. Instead, I spend the majority of my days solving problems, helping students and faculty members do research, and equipping people will the skills to lead empowered lives. The intersection of knowledge and information is expanding beyond the traditional boundaries of books, covers, and pages. We see content being created communally, locally, and socially, outside the dual constructs of author/publisher. Daily, I witness a new generation of students struggling to reconcile their everyday world of transparent, web-based existence with the conventional assumption of Library = warehouse for books. How best to help the student whose professor has required he make a copy of a print journal article when the library has transitioned to purely electronic journal access. How best to explain to that same student that once he graduates in two years, he will no longer have unfettered access to that body of knowledge due to a strictly enforced pay wall.

In all of this, technology is neither the problem, nor the solution. Print or digital, formats have always come laden with both burden and opportunity. Because print books have served me so well and taught me so much, I am more willing to experiment with my iPad and iPhone as alternative platforms for reading. Last year I experienced a panic attack while riding alone on a New York City subway car. I was able to immediately open The Selected Poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay on my phone and skim through stanzas as my fingers left faint marks of sweat on the screen. I smiled as my heart continued beating quickly, but this time, for a different reason.

While I am drawn to the idea of having my library in my pocket, with me at all times, I certainly can’t risk bringing my iPad into a hot bath. For now, I will continue to strategically pack and ask my brothers for help transporting my boxes of paperbacks. Plus, I’ve already worked out the best elbow crook for reading in bed and the perfect angle to block the sun while reading at the beach.

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Thanks to Amy Pajewski for the fabulous photo work and to Curatorial Assistant Sinclaire Marber for inviting me to participate. And, anyone who has ever recommended, lent, or gifted me a book. If you can make it up to New Haven to see the exhibit (running now through January 28), I am confident it would be worth your trip!

When I first started thinking about doing my PhD, I decided that whenever possible I would like to make my workflow as paperless as possible. The first thing on my list of things to deal with was finding a way to stop the cycle of printing, skimming and either tossing or filing a never-ending flow of journal articles and reports. My first attempt at saving PDFs of journal articles on my computer was a disaster – I did not think far enough in advance to make strict rules about how I would file papers, and as a result ended up with multiple copies of the same paper (each with a different file name and notes on it). Enter, Papers.

Papers2: like iTunes for journal articles

Upon downloading my free trial of Papers (before Papers2 had been released), Papers gave me the option to automatically import all of the PDFs I had stored on my computer. Once the PDFs were imported, some of the bibliographic information was automatically matched to the files, which Papers used to name and sort nicely by publication date and author name. Those that didn’t automatically match could easily be fixed manually, and the result was a beautifully organized library of PDFs like this:

Library arranged by year, author last name, journal

This organized PDF library means that I can easily access my files for use in other applications as needed. These files and my Papers library are synced via dropbox – so my home library and uni library are identical, and I can easily access any PDF I need if I have Internet access.

Papers2, which was released not long after I was first introduced to Papers, added some awesome new features and kept many of the earlier version’s existing strengths. In app notes, categorizing and filing, and searching functions are all features I use regularly. My favourite new feature is magic manuscripts, which allows users to insert citations directly into their text in a similar (but much improved!) manner to Zotero or Endnote. It hasn’t quite replaced Endnote for me just yes, as there is no room to include page numbers in citations automatically and the available styles are somewhat limited compared to what is available for Endnote, but I have high hopes that it will in the future.

One function I’m hoping will make the list very soon is the ability to highlight text on the desktop app, and to sync notes/highlights from the iOS app to the desktop. That being said, Papers2 has been a phenomenal time saver for me and if you work on a Mac, I highly recommend checking it out if you’re interested in creating a paperless workflow.

However, throughout the process, we’ve given the bookcases our greatest consideration. We pretty much decided that books might as well be our design focus… since they are so prevalent in our lives. But how to display them? So far I’m a fan of floating wall shelves or box shelves for the airy feel they give the room. Here and here are a few options we are considering.

But I was wondering, what do your personal libraries look like? Co you have bookcases (modern or antique)? Shelving units? Wall shelves? Storage boxes? Do you have a whole room devoted to books or are they spread out across the house?

(Photo from Apartment Therapy)

What makes the problem…I’ll say clearer (because it’s both better and worse) is that I just moved in next door to the Book Thing of Baltimore. Rooms full of free books, every weekend, totally free. Actually entirely free books, and lots of them.

Along with that, I’ve got a bibliophilic father and well-read friends and interesting strangers constantly recommending the most fascinating, informative books ever. And often giving me copies of them. I’m also not bad at discovering my own luscious little bibliographic temptations. So I will never run out of books to read, and never read all the books I’m interested in.

I find two insights here.

1. I don’t need to own (many) books.

I spend much more time looking at my non-reference books than reading them. So this is actually efficient. In a manner of speaking.

I long ago gave up the ideal of a vast personal library, around the third time I had to pack up my dorm room. It turns out boxing and re-boxing a hundred thousand pages I haven’t even read yet is no fun, and these days it’s not even helpful.

My new ideal is a minimal, highly agile personal library. Reference books I actually use, books I love and will read over and over, books worth lending or giving away, books with strong sentimental value or aesthetic appeal.¹ Anything else I can get for free (or close to it) whenever I want it for as long as I need it, and give it back when I’m done. Books are a river flowing past me, not a dragon’s hoard to sleep on.

Personal libraries have always been a luxury, but these days they are sheer extravagance.  They justified themselves in the past by providing access to otherwise unavailable books. Now, unless you’re a specialist who really uses them all a lot, a big set of paper books is a showcase. Do feel free to build one if you’re willing to mess with the expense, maintenance, storage, transport, etc., but do it for physically aesthetic reasons, not out of any illusion that it makes you erudite. Erudition comes from engaging with books, not owning them. As long as they’re just sitting in your house, they’re decoration. In my case, my lovely rare pearl of a wife let me sort our books by color instead of genre.²

2. I need a strategy.

Not only do I not need to collect books, I need to pare down and direct the steady stream of them that flows through my life. I have seven or ten books I want to read next. Forget all the books I want to read ever. And where do you start? What happens when people recommend five books for every one I read?

The categories aren't really necessary. Pro: I can pick my top books for various moods at once. Con: I have to check the tops of seven different lists.

I’ve been experimenting with a new system to make sense of my reading choices. Starting assumption is that I can’t read everything I want to in this lifetime. That means I have to pick some possibilities over others, and that presents a toehold. I created a list of all the books I might want to read sometime, without getting ridiculous about it.³ Then I sorted them. Take the top two. If I could only read one of them, which one should it be? Cool. Now bring in a third. Etc.

The beauty of this is that I always have a fairly good idea of what I want to read next, though of course my lists and tastes are both fluid. Anytime someone recommends a book, I just pop it on the list and bubble sort it into the right spot. If I don’t currently possess the top few books I can keep an eye out for them in my various sources while moving on to the next one in the meantime.

And the especially beautiful bit is that if a book just randomly catches my eye, as books so frequently do, I don’t really need to go through a whole rigmarole to decide whether it’s worth my time, nor do I implicitly shove aside every other book in the world for it merely because it exists. I just decide whether I want to read it more or less than the top book or two on the list. If I do, great. I start reading. If not, I can just pop it on the list and sort it into the right position next time I have a free minute.

Another element of the stratagem is to become more selective about how I read, which involves knowing why I’m reading something before I start. There are books I’ve read recently in about fifteen minutes, if you call what I did reading a book. I know what I’m there for, I find it, snatch it and leave the rest. For example, there was a book on (heh) speed-reading recently. I realized I knew most of it already and mostly just have to do it instead of reading it again, so I started skimming through it in case there were any ideas or exercises I don’t know yet. Turns out there was an article halfway through the book that was the most cogent, information-rich summary of speed-reading I’ve ever seen. I read those six pages and gave the book back to the Book Thing.

So don’t feel constrained to read all the words in a book if they’re not the good words, and don’t feel like you have to read a book just because someone told you it’s brilliant. If you cut your reading goal down to the top tenth of a percent of the brilliant books in the world, you’d still be in massive trouble. There are brilliant books you’ll never read. Get over it, and spend your time sucking the marrow out of the books you will read instead of fretting over the rest.

Comments Save Lives

Tell me your story, too. I probably don’t even need to ask a question here. You guys are huge geeks just like me, and I love you for it. I want to hear about your bookish joys and dilemmas and compulsions and solutions. And (yes, fine, I can’t help myself) recommendations.
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¹ I’m not there yet, by the way. But I’m closer than I was a couple years ago and getting closer all the time.

² It adds 30-45 seconds when I want to find my next book to read, but that’s only a few minutes a month. In return, I get to appreciate their beauty all the time. I intentionally kept the color spectrum a little imperfect, because I don’t want to worry about whether I’m putting books back in exactly the right spot.

³ I mean, once you have the list, books you might want to read will easily find their way onto it. Don’t worry about comprehensiveness at the beginning or you’ll go insane.

What’s the largest your personal library has ever been? What’s the greatest number of books you’ve ever owned at one time? (Estimates are fine.)

Is your collection NOW the biggest it’s ever been? Or have you down-sized?

What’s the fewest number of books you’ve ever owned (not counting your pre-reading years)?

My estimate is that my library, at its largest, probably hit 400 books — I’ve never counted.

My best estimate now is that it ranges around 300 books, maybe  more, maybe less. I’ve sold and traded some during recent moves, although I’ve also bought some, too.

I’d probably have to say, oddly enough, I had the fewest books when I was in college. Textbooks, of course, I didn’t keep. And sometimes I sold back stuff I liked for necessities like beer.

Then again, maybe I had a pretty decent library then, too. Perhaps it only seemed small because most of the books I had were paperbacks, and they don’t take up as much room.

What’s the largest your personal library has ever been? What’s the greatest number of books you’ve ever owned at one time? (Estimates are fine.)

Is your collection NOW the biggest it’s ever been? Or have you down-sized?

What’s the fewest number of books you’ve ever owned (not counting your pre-reading years)?

The largest my collection has been was about 1250 books (give or take). But, because I was running out of room in my tiny house, I had to downsize a bit. So I went through and got rid of 4 boxes worth (approximately 200 books)… ones I didn’t feel I’d ever get to, mostly ones I got given to me in boxes via Freecycle.org.

The smallest my library ever was was probably about 10-20 books. That was before I got “book crazy” in my early twenties, and started dreaming of having my own in-home, personal “library” (a room full of beautiful built-ins, stuffed with books!).

My current total (according to my LibraryThing.com account ~ which I keep updated) is 1140 books. But, that doesn’t include the 8 books I’ve recently ordered that will be arriving soon (6 of them, hopefully, today!).

My "some day" dream... (my shelves will be FULL of books, though!)

What’s the largest your personal library has ever been? What’s the greatest number of books you’ve ever owned at one time? (Estimates are fine.)

Is your collection NOW the biggest it’s ever been? Or have you down-sized?

What’s the fewest number of books you’ve ever owned (not counting your pre-reading years)?

I’d say my personal library is the largest it’s ever been now, as I’ve continued adding to it through the years, without any significant downsizing. A large chunk of it is comics-related: graphic novels, collected editions, etc. I couldn’t begin to properly estimate at present–especially as I have several bins of books tucked away in a shed at my parents’ house.

I’ve meant for ages to downsize a bit–but never quite get around to it. I also haven’t quite determined if I’d be merely downsizing what I have in this apartment, on my shelves…or downsize the collection itself permanently.

That’s the trouble, I’ve found, with being a comics & books person: by the very nature of the thing, it’s materialistic. The things take up space.

About ten years ago, I visited a friend’s place, and she showed me her dad’s library. A beautiful room with more books than I could count, organized neatly…and I was simply in awe.

At the time, my personal library could probably fit on 3-4 shelves, and included college textbooks whose “buyback” prices were insulting (Take a $35 book kept in good condition through the semester and offer me $1.25–less than the price of a single-issue comic–I’ll keep the book.)

But I’d received the bite, and found myself stuck with a vision that I hold to this day of someday being able to have my OWN library. A library, study, den, man-cave…whatever the word would be. A space for my book and comics collection.

Though in today’s economy and my own work situation at present…I begin to see definite folly in that vision.

And perhaps morbidly, after watching various CSI and L&O shows…I sometimes think about what my collection says about me. The books I have, the comics I’ve amassed. Quantity and quality of books, where I’ve chosen to shelve them, etc. What someone would deduce about me and my life simply from seeing this bedroom.

Plenty of other stuff to be touched on, such as the collector mentality (I don’t collect for value, but for completism, for one thing); but it branches into other topics. Perhaps to be touched on by future (or already touched on in past) Booking Through Thursday prompts.

’nuff said.

In the OT department I have a good commentary set on the Minor Prophets (McComiskey) and some others on the Psalms. I am thinking there has to be some recent studies done on the Pentateuch, and so am open to suggestions.

I have recently read some good works on the Wisdom Literature and am considering some of those works – I’m yet to find a complete comprehensive text on them – such as is found with the Minor Prophets.

I need to round it out with some systematic theology… While I am not a huge fan of it; I do think there is a need to be informed of it and so I was thinking of Grudem’s – though having read a snippet of Horton’s I think he could be worthwhile as well.

What are you thoughts?

Images from FredFlare

photo © 2007 Nic McPhee | more info (via: Wylio)

As a student at Liberty University and then at Southwestern Seminary, I was constantly encouraged by professors and mentors to build my personal library. For ministers, this is important, because books are tools of our trade. They help us in our Bible study, leadership, counseling, and numerous other areas of our personal life and ministry.

My friend Dr Jeremy Roberts has some great thoughts on this topic. I highly recommend his post entitled “How to build and organize a personal library for theology and personal growth“. He discusses some ideas for what books to pursue, and some advice on how to organize them. His post also includes some great statistical data on reading.

I also have a few thoughts to add on this topic. Being a young minister, now out of seminary and looking ahead at new opportunities I’d like to think I have a better perspective now on library building and book collecting than I did as a student. I’ve built a personal library, and continue to expand it. However, as I get older (and hopefully wiser), I try to give greater care to the books that I welcome into my library. As I offer my thoughts, here are three key considerations to keep in mind as you collect books: your time, your money, and space in your home.

Be Selective
Dr Paige Patterson has always advised his students to build a library of 1,500 books before they leave seminary. For a time, I took that advice to heart, but now I want to offer some caution. Not all books are equal. The publishing industry in the United States puts out hundreds of thousands (over 300,000) of new titles every year (that’s not total volumes, but individual titles, of which any number of volumes may be printed). You and I have no use for most of them (and frankly, many are junk). Not all that is printed is worth reading, and your time is precious.

Out of the hundreds of thousands of book titles that emerge every year, most libraries will only buy a small percentage. So here’s the takeaway: Just because a new book comes out doesn’t mean you should buy it. Additionally, More books does not always mean a better library – quality is king.

As you buy books, consider not only the content of the book, but the condition of the book itself. These days, if I’m buying a book, I usually prefer hardbacks to paperbacks (for durability – because if I buy it, I’d better hope to read it more than once).

Consider Digital
I love books. There’s just something about having a book in my hands that I like. I even like the smell of books (especially old books), but I digress. Now that I have an Amazon Kindle, I find that I have access to a wealth of material that I did not have before, and it’s all highly portable (as opposed to the hundreds of pounds of books I own). Going digital may save you some money (as many e-books are cheaper than their paper counterparts), and it will certainly save you some shelf space.

Don’t buy it if you can get it for free
Books are expensive. Here in my area, we have a chain called Half Priced Books that I frequent. I hate paying retail for books, so I try to get them as cheaply as possible. Even better than half price is free. Most of the books on my Kindle are free books that have gone out of copyright, and become public domain. There are very few cases where I would actually purchase a book when it is public domain (i.e., free).

As great as free is, there’s another side to the argument. Remember the college student mentality “if it’s free it’s for me”? Forget that. Even if someone is giving books away, you should still judge whether you need it in your library. Sometimes you can get good books for free, other times they aren’t worth what you paid for them.

Another thought here is use the library. There was a time in my life that I bought every book I read. Now I wish I had simply re-discovered the public library. Now if I want to try out a book, I can sample it, and take it back if I don’t like it. This allows me to read more widely without buying a lot of books I don’t like.

There you have it, my thoughts on building your library.

What thoughts do you have for those trying to build up their library?