I go out, I buy books. If the kids are sick, like today, I don't. I process the books that are here or I go through them and look for dupes, gather together lots. I check my accounts. I wander up the hill to the shed and spend a few minutes up there, going through on-hand inventory. Or I write to dealers I know. Collectors who are looking for that one elusive book to complete their collection. I might have it too, I have a good number of books around. More than my wife will ever know.
Fortunately, I find new places and open up new mining operations, you know? New veins of "gold". A Pocket Book paperback that I pay .35 cents for and sell for $5.00. I don't go to any one place more than twice a week. Things don't change too often, well, except for the donations at the library. That's a treasure trove. And I treat it respectfully, I mean, when I see a book that will sell - I do put it aside and leave a note for the head of the Friends. I just don't put everything book like that aside. Like the ARC of Kerouac's first novel. That one I kept. The Heritage Press books? I bought them, $3.00 for 6 of them. Don Quitoxe, illustrated by Salvador Dali? Yeah, that made it's way home with me too.
Some sit for awhile, warm up on chilly days. Ideally, I would buy a book on a Thursday, post it on Friday and it would sell over the weekend. On-line sales. I don't have a booth, I don't sit at a table - I don't do street sales - I don't own a shop - I don't sit, except in the comforts of my house, anywhere. I have kids to tend and books to mend.
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