About a year ago, I decided that books and reading had defined so much of what I am as a person, I wanted to become a book collector — a dealer of the preserved printed word, a packrat of literature.
I quickly learned becoming a bookman, a bookie, a homemade librarian, an antiquarian, a hoarder of value via the library book sale, yard, garage and rummage sale, was easier proclaimed than carried out.
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