At a used book sale, I saw a man in his late twenties pick up a John Le Carré spy novel, The Dune, a biography of Shakespeare, and Virgil’s Aeneid.
I’m fascinated by people’s used-book choices. At a sale, I usually veer towards pre-1970 small-town Americana. There’s a lot of fascinating stuff that was published – novels, of course, I rarely read anything else – about small Midwestern towns, pioneer outposts, poor farmer communities in the South. There’s no way to find out that this stuff even existed without a used book sale.
And people do read a lot. Every time there’s a sale in my time (and there were two major ones just in the last month), I have to beat my way through the crowd. Readers haul books away by the cartful.

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