Facebook Fails
Friday, July 12, 2013 by Miss K in Labels:

What are these fails that I speak of?  Grammatical fails, of course!  Sometimes when I'm surfing Facebook, I just have to facepalm (badum tss).  I am way too passive to correct people outright or tell them to their faces that I can't take them seriously when they fail so hard at the language they speak.  However, I am just aggressive enough to blog about it.  I have made it my civic duty to hide the identities of the offenders, present these fails to the public, and correct them for entertainment.  Keeping people anonymous allows us to laugh at the durr while no one gets hurt.  And if you do just so happen to see something that you yourself wrote, remember that it's all in fun!

Here we go, folks!


Okay, so he typed it on his phone, let's cut him some slack.  WRONG.  The fact that he typed it on his phone is NO EXCUSE.  He typed it, looked it over, and said to himself, "This is suitable for presenting to the public without any need for correction whatsoever."  Tsk tsk.  And whenever I see the kind of blatant Engrish that is tacked on the end of this status, I can't help but picture someone with their eyes drifting languidly in opposite directions while they mouth-breathe.  That is a poor impression to leave indeed!

Corrected:  To all of my family and true friends: Have a safe and wonderful 4th!

Not as upset as this grammar makes me.  Looks like this person got a little lost somewhere between Subject/Verb Agreement-land and Demonstrative Pronoun-town.  And just because a word ends in s doesn't make it automatically plural.  While "witness is" would have been correct, "witnesses is" is definitely not.

Corrected:  These witnesses for the Trayvon Martin trial are really making me upset!

Stellar news, young delinquent!  I am so glad someone is going to help you to stop standing on your ankle bracelet; that should make life much easier for you.  I mean, that is what you meant, right (all ridiculous punctuation aside)?

Corrected:  Today is a good day.  Next Friday, I'm having my ankle monitor taken off, yay!

Nothing gets on my nerves like inappropriate use of "..."  Are you really going to pair it with poor spelling, no commas, and lack of capitalization of a proper noun?!  SPARE ME.  However, I will do you the courtesy of honoring your casual demeanor in my correction.

Corrected:  Watching Dark Shadows, about (or 'bout) to lay down.  Glad I get to spend the day with my girl tomorrow.  Happy birthday, baby.

I suppose I could give this artistic license and assume that he means for each period to mean a dramatic pause... OR NOT.  The comma is actually the traditional and punctually correct way of indicating dramatic pause, even if a comma isn't necessarily appropriate there for anything other than artistic and expressionistic emphasis on the pause, as evidenced in plenty of classic literature.  And I will also allow this use of ya'll, as I think it is an under appreciated contraction.

Corrected: If ya'll go for a walk, and her sneakers still light up, she's too young for you, bro.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this first installment of Facebook Fails, and don't forget that I'm always looking for submissions!  If you see your friends typing some just plain goofy crap on a public forum, do not hesitate to screenshot it and send it to me via my Facebook fan page.   Don't worry, I will protect them from ridicule by blotting out faces and names.  Happy Grammar Nazi-ing!

A Kindle for Dad: 4th Gen Pros & Cons
Wednesday, July 10, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , , ,

On Father's Day, my husband and I went down to Alabama to visit my parents.  I'd been all keyed up for this holiday, because for the first time, I was able to afford to get my dad something really neat.  In the past, presents for the people I care about have fallen under the constraints of things like my allowance and my minimum wage job, or under the shadow of big things like going to Germany, paying for college, and paying for a wedding.  I wouldn't say I'm free and clear of all things like that yet, but I'm in a nice little period of respite.

I was looking online for nice copies of books my dad would really like, when I discovered that for $10 more than what I was going to pay for two books, I could have a 4th generation Kindle.  Then I thought about the size of the house my parents live in and how it's already full of the things they've acquired throughout their lives, so really, there's no room for me to impose a book collection of my own design on them.  And this tiny little Kindle that can hold something like 1300 books is the size of less than one book.

Kind of an old picture of the best Dad ever

I was all squirmy during dinner.  I couldn't wait to see if this good gift, this costs-more-than-$20 gift, would be something my dad would actually like or be a useless lump of technology that my dad wouldn't bother to figure out.   And speaking of dinner, the Logan's in Cullman SUCKS.  Anyways, we get back to the house, and I give him the little black box.  He opens it up and...

Poker face.  My dad is notorious for his grumpy poker face about everything; my friends were terrified of him when I was growing up.  I never could figure it out, but eventually I realized that to people on the outside of the family, he just looked tall and angry and potentially mean.  So I showed him how to work it for the most part, but even after that, I still couldn't figure out whether he actually wanted the thing or not.

So I went home and was a little sullen, because I could tell he didn't hate it, but I didn't know if he loved it.  It was a complete toss up, and I had to go home before I could even see how things turned out.  That's part of what sucks about living so far away: I don't get to be a part of my family's everyday things anymore.

BUT THEN.  He called me the next morning because he couldn't get the navigation controls to work right so that he could read the Kindle User's Guide that came on the device.  I knew then that he was actually interested in it and maybe even (gasp) liked it.  He also had another issue: I had put so many books on the Kindle, the device didn't have enough memory to actually read a book...  I did not know that this was a thing, but it is.

In order to help him with this little problem, Mike and I grabbed a delicious apple stack cake from Publix and made another southerly trip.  My dad has always been very quick to pick up new things, so once the memory issue was solved by deleting some random books that he'd never read anyway, he was quick to figure everything out.  Watching him learn the ins and outs and look the device over, I now know that he's happy with it.

So what's the verdict on the Gen 4 Kindle?  After having factored in what I thought personally and what my dad had to say about it, I've reached the following conclusions:

4th Generation Kindle


  • Extremely long battery life
  • Very affordable 
  • Great for just reading, no bells and whistles
  • Very easy to load files onto it
  • No keyboard
  • No wall charger
  • Not really old people friendly
  • Low memory, slow processing
  • Book organization is lacking, no selecting sections by letter
What We Love:

I love that it's finally been long enough that a generation of the Kindle that is just an e-reader, no bells and whistles, has dropped in price so that just about anyone could get one.  Granted, Amazon probably doesn't advertise that this product is available and cheap because they want to plug the new stuff, but it is.  It was $69 brand new with free shipping.  That is an amazing price, and I'm glad I found it.

The battery life on the book-reading-only Kindles is EPIC.  The device can last a month on a single charge, so it's perfect for carrying anywhere and everywhere with you to read without having to worry about the battery dying.  This was a big seller for me.  I don't really like to carry my books around with me for fear of ruining them, yet I can never go without reading.  I've tried to make the life last as long as I can on my iPod so that it can do the Kindle's job, but it doesn't hold a charge for more than a day of sporadic reading.  So jelly of my dad right now!

The lack of bells and whistles like a backlit screen, sounds, and color account for the great battery life, and it's perfect for someone who just wants something to read with rather than a fully functional tablet.  Sure a tablet can use the Kindle app, but it can't compete with dat battery life.  This Kindle is a good choice for someone who already has an iPad, because you wouldn't be doubling up on tablets. It is very lightweight, which makes it easy on the wrist when reading, whereas tablets can be pretty heavy.

It's very easy to get your own MOBI eBook files onto it.  Some of the later generations have safeguards against adding non-Amazon MOBI files to your device because of pirating fears, but this one works exactly like a portable hard drive: drag and drop.  Very simple stuff.
Just drag and drop.
What We Hate:

I didn't think it would be an issue when I bought it, but it is.  This thing has no keyboard, and it's horrible.  You have to navigate around a little keyboard with the arrows like it's the dark ages, which made my dad roll his eyes and sigh.  It is incredibly tedious and makes simple tasks exceedingly difficult.  Also, the symbols on the four provided buttons are somewhat non-standard looking and weird, which also doesn't help.  If I had this to do over again, I'd buy the Kindle Keyboard; it costs exactly the same amount and would save everyone a headache.

Look at this lunacy
It seems to run pretty smoothly, but god forbid if you want to run a search.  I wouldn't even bother.  It can only hold 1.35 GB, and searching that much data is just beyond the little thing.  If you're looking for something, it's easier just to surf through the list rather than perform an actual search.

The book organization on it is terrible.  If you place it by author, it seems to be very confused about sorting them by first or last name, so it just does a jumble of both.  We've got Ambrose Bierce next to Isaac Asimov.  How is anyone even supposed to find anything if it can't sort and it can't search?  And you can't select the letter your book title or author name starts with and skip to that section, you must surf through every book from A to Z looking for that one elusive bastard of a book among 1,300.

Also, instead of buying it used, I bought it new and paid the extra $10 because I assumed that the charger in the description meant wall charger.  Not so.  The device only comes with a USB charger, and seeing as how my parents have no computer, it was useless until they went to Wal-Mart and bought a converter.

Even though I got this device for someone who is nearly 70, I do not recommend this as a gift for everyone's grandpa.  My dad has always been rather tech savvy, so he didn't struggle with it.  However, I could never give this to my mom or aunt.  The lack of keyboard, weird button locations and symbols, jacked up sorting system, and odd layout/navigation all combine to make something that your average grandparent would never figure out.  If you're looking for something old-folks-friendly, I'd go for the touch.

Weekly Words: The Birthday Cometh
Monday, July 8, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , ,

What's up this week?

Another lesson learned: I am perceptibly getting older.  My birthday is coming up later this month, and when I look at my sheer lack of resilience in the face of young people things, I know that I am becoming old.  When I stay out late a single night, my schedule is irreversibly fucked up for a week or more.  I become a night creature who can neither force herself to go to sleep earlier nor stay up until the next night to make herself tired, the latter of the two being my usual go-to.  And when I finally crawl out of bed the next day at 1 in the afternoon, I feel like death.  I am not a morning (afternoon) person at all.  I just sit there, feeling ill and foul and grumpy for hours if I don't force myself to make me some coffee, and lord forbid if anyone talks to me before then.

What bothers me the most about being helpless to correct my sleep schedule is that the rest of the world closes at 4 pm, so by the time I drag my ass off the couch and get dressed, things are winding down for everyone else.  I keep trying to get to the doctor for some walk-in blood work, but I can only fit in so many things before 4 after waking up so late.

I can't handle liquor anymore, and I get hangovers now.  And  EVERYTHING gives me heartburn.  I can't even have the odd bit of raw onion on a sandwich every now and then without suffering like a sinner in Hell.  Sometimes it's so bad that the pain keeps me up all night, or all morning rather, because I can't get to bed before 4 or 5 am.  I have to sleep with Tums and Pepto by the bed.  Pretty sure I have developed acid reflux in my old age, but I don't want to have to endure the esophageal probing to be diagnosed.

And the allergies, omfg, the allergies.  They never used to be this way.  I cannot exit the house without a Claritin, and if I make the mistake of doing so, my ears stop up.  I cannot hear anything, and I just wander around, grumpy af, aiming my ear at things I'm trying to listen to.  It basically cancels out human interaction, because I can't follow a conversation like a human.
First world problems, people.

Bleh, I said I wouldn't rant this week.  Well, I'm not particularly grumpy, just wish I could get on a slightly normal schedule.  Or eat an onion.  And the climb toward 25 doesn't fill me with mortal dread anymore, so woot about that.
Like a give a fuck
So I've begun planning for my birthday party, so excited over here!  It's going to be Harry Potter themed.  I'm going to make treats from the Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook, decorate in the colors of the four Hogwarts houses, and have an epic Potter movie marathon.  Also, Quidditch Beer Pong is a thing, and it is going to be at my party, both to satisfy my love for Harry Potter-themed party games and to entertain my husband and his buddies who love beer pong like a brother (I don't get it).  The game will be played OUTSIDE, and people better stay off the lawn...

What am I reading?

Lord, I wish it was something else, but I'm reading The Chamber by John Grisham.  It is just seems to go on forever, and I'm just so sick of his shit right now.  The man is not writing lawyery crime books or even touching lawyer-type general fiction stuff; he is writing complaints about the penal system and the poor state of society under the guise of badly written stories.  The protagonists in his books absolutely lack souls; they exist only to facilitate his epicly long lectures on how everything is fucked up and everyone is too much of a selfish fuck to care.  It is like those episodes of Law and Order: SVU that go on and on, but in the end, the bad guy gets away or the good guy gets raped/killed because of the failures of society and the law.  It's like that, but it's so much longer than an hour.
Also, there's none of this
I know he's very popular and all, but there are lots of popular writers that suck.  And he sucks.  Or at least the lawyery novels he became famous for do.  I actually liked Bleachers, but more about that in a second.  His subject has potential, but his stories are bad.  Sure, people should be made aware of the problems he addresses and made to question the morality of turning a blind eye to the plight of the homeless or death row inmates; I'm all for that aspect of his books.  However, the man cannot write a good story or good characters, no matter how much he obviously is trying.  If he spent more time focusing on writing relevant events into the story to teach the lesson rather than unabashedly lecturing about it page after page, he might just change the world.  But as it is, he has only succeeded in making me irritated at his style and frustrated that he didn't do a better job at his attempt to raise awareness.

But I suppose that his lawyer books are an easy read and an easy way to draw people in at the airport unsuspectingly and teach them a lesson.  However, I think that if a denizen of airport paperbacks, looking for some entertainment, were to read one of his books, it could go one of two ways: they might become either enlightened or bored.  Bored like when the teacher is lecturing angrily about something you've never heard of that you will forget the moment you leave the room.  And they would never come back to learn any more lessons.

For me, his veil of fiction is just too thin, and it makes his works unprofound where there is so much room to be profound indeed.  He wants to get his message out there, but at his core, he is a lawyer first and an author of fiction second.  For anything good to come out of a writer, they must be a writer first when writing.  Because he is a writer second and a lawyer first, his lesson is well fleshed out, but his fiction is wrapped poorly and thinly around it and never comes to its potential.
BUT THEN AGAIN, maybe he knows that his audience of bad paperback connoisseurs  aren't exactly profound people themselves and would understand the direct approach better.

Although I've only read a handful of his books, I don't think he ever came into his own as a writer until one of his most recent, Bleachers, which has absolutely zero to do with lawyering and is actually very relatable, especially for someone who grew up in the Southern football culture.

What is my current muse?

I thought that reading some more modern fiction would get me out of it, but it didn't: I'm completely obsessed with everything 1920s.  I love the people and everything they did, touched, lived, wore.  I love their haughty, jaded attitudes, their vampy makeup, their unusual and experimental fashion, their slang, their music, their hair, their drinks, their homes, their writing...  Eee, I have to go roll around with glee just thinking about it.
Appropriate gif is appropriate
I'm eating up pictures, poetry, magazine articles, magazine covers, books, catalogs, biographies of celebrities, art, fashion plates, anything I can find.  It's all beautiful.  I've been obsessed with this era before, and I'm ready to be again.  A very long time ago, I wrote a serial short story that took place during prohibition called "The Black Dog," and I always thought it could be better.  I think that this is a great time to either look at that story again or start something new and special.  One idea that occurred to me involved an apartment or flat haunted by a '20s girl.  I won't reveal any more of that one's plot, because I think it has a lot of potential and I fear plagiarism like I fear death.

While all this '20s stuff is on my mind, I'll try to make it a point to share some of what I've found in a Writspo post, because I know it will be appreciated.  It's all so good, how could it not be?!  If you know of any movies, books, poems, or anything else from the era that I absolutely must see, don't hesitate to share in the comments!

Reception: A Narrative
Sunday, July 7, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , ,

A little forward to this beauty: Are you ever just casually browsing social media and see a picture of someone that just makes you feel huffy and violated all over again, even though you'd forgotten about the whole thing?  That's exactly what inspired today's narrative.  I suppose I needed to revisit those old huffy feelings, blow them off like steam in order to keep pressure from building up in my anxiety/rage cooker.  Sometimes that part of my life that won't die because another person won't just let it die (it's been over three years, come on, dude) makes me want to just go to his face and scream at him until he stops malfunctioning, tell him to vanish from my life and the lives of everyone around me, but then I realize that I'd be too sickened at this point to do that and that it's really not worth it to acknowledge it anymore.  Let this be the dying cry of any helpless or angry feelings he has inspired, and please, please let the feelings on his end die.  Just let him make some semblance of living a life that isn't striving to be parallel to mine at all times, let him develop some interests and personality traits that aren't directly inspired by me, and let the parallels now in place be torn down.  Let my life in him die so that it is mine alone, and let him just have one of his own.  Or let him fade and wink out.

"Ginger-ale" by truth2lies on deviantART

"Ew, what are you even drinking?"

I looked down at my little plastic low ball cup, trying to imagine how it might look weird to someone, "It's just ginger ale, what?"

"Oh, hm,"  He leaned back in his chair a little further, his feet propped on the rickety, clothless table. He was still regarding my drink but striving just a bit with his demeanor to appear informed, as if yes, he had known all along that it is ginger ale, that ginger ale is perfectly natural.  I still stared into my cup, wondering if the color of my drink looked gross.  I sipped.

Motion to my right, Nathan was sitting up a little straighter, his little green uniform coat straining at the shoulders, his head strangely lacking hair, "Oh, you'll never guess who's joined the Army now."

I was only half paying attention, mostly contemplating whether ginger ale is, actually, gross, "Who?"  I thought he might say Levi, I'd heard about Levi.  Or maybe a wild card, someone who I'd never suspect.  I contemplated wild cards.

"Tyler freaking --------."

A hot and angry flutter in my chest.  I felt my eyes narrowing, realized how ugly it must look, wiped that ugly look off before asking, "What?"

 Seeing that sour look on my face and knowing from everyone's stance he'd said something quite interesting, he perked up and continued with bright eyes and a laugh, "Yeah, I saw him around, he said he'd joined the National Guard."

More little questions from the peanut gallery, laughter.  A joke or two.  Wide-eyed husband.

I was unsure what to say for a moment.  My fingertips alighted on the table next to my drink, covering a splatter of dried paint.  The drink shook on the table like it was Jurassic Park.  We were discussing someone I had actually been relieved to forget about, someone who was unimportant enough to forget and to leave no trace except a vague feeling of annoyance, someone who only came to mind when he was being creepy, someone who couldn't let things be, someone who wanted my life.  My life isn't anything overtly special, really, I'm just a girl.  Nevertheless, when this person was looking to find himself, he found me, he tried to be me.

I don't think I would have cared half so much, would have even bothered to respond, if I hadn't had another strange bit of information on him drop at my feet only a couple of weeks before.  I had only just swept it up and thrown it out, and here was this new thing, dirtying the floor at my feet.

I thought that people should know this thing I was experiencing, know about my messy floor.  I crossed my legs and leaned forward, smoothing the green fabric of my dress as I moved, feeling predatory and lithe, "You can't be serious.  No.  No freaking way, he's too much of a pussy.  And when will this guy get a life of his own?  He's always emulating my life, when does it stop?  I mean, I thought we'd all just move on, but he can't just let things be.  He's such a... creep, there's no other word for it.  Did you know he named his god damn baby after me?"

"What?! No, now that's weird."

"It's true!  His baby has my middle name, I just shit when I saw it on the internet, I..."  For a moment I'd been caught up in this conversation like it was the usual round of gossip, but I realized just then that this was me, my life.  This was a surreal and strange event.  It gave me that tickling, green, icky feeling under my heart like I'd just been violated.

I could have told them more, more about how it had been years but he still wouldn't leave my life alone and just let it be mine.  I could have, but instead I became a little quieter and let that green feeling boil my blood until I was light headed.

They discussed it, I listened.  Had he made it through Basic?  No.  I halfheartedly threw in another two cents, and we all agreed he was too much of a wimp to make it through.

Sips of cheap wine, goodbye, good luck, and congratulations.   Liquor store, video games, up all night.  I simmered on the back burner, still feeling transient and strange, like I was caught by the hooks of the past and being dragged backward.  Old friends were telling me old things made up like they were new about someone from a time in my life that was, it seemed, as old as a time could get.  But it apparently wasn't so old for him.

I sat on the couch later, reading, sitting straight and tall and feeling bookish, just the way I love.  Serenity over here.

"So I was looking at Tyler's page to find out more about what Nathan said, and he has my job."

My eyebrows flew toward my hairline then settled back down into the old furrow, into old wrinkles people in the past had sewn in my forehead's field.  My eyes didn't leave the page, "What?  How is that?  What does that even mean?"

"Look," he beckoned me to the computer screen and hunched over, ready to pull up an explanation, "He put down here under his job title that he's a 'Systems Support and Communication Specialist.'  That's the official title of my job, the one on my profile."

"What? I..." Only a moment passed before I realized something downright dark, "Do you know what that means?  Do you know how disturbing that is?"

"It's weird... what?"

I kept on staring at the screen, "It's not a coincidence, not after that baby thing.  It means that he's looking at us, looking at our profiles, reading about us, watching what we do still.  He had to go on Facebook, maybe even look via someone who is friends with us, read your job title, make a life decision based on it, and request that job specifically at the recruiting office," I stood up, threw my hands in the air, backed up a couple of steps, "This is just too, too strange and gross."

Eyes cast down toward the keyboard, back up at me again, "Wow, I knew he was weird, but I never really thought it was like that."

"Well, I told you it was," I went still for a moment, hand on my cheek, ready for the feeling of violation, but instead of feeling predated, for some reason I suddenly felt big.  Big on so many levels where this relic person of the past was so small.  The more I lived and the more he didn't, not truly, the smaller he became.  If he never stopped, it didn't matter one bit; he was incapable of truly touching me.  He'd just grow smaller and smaller until he winked out while I kept right on living.  "But fuck him.  Fuck him, fuck him.  If he can't get a life of his own, even after getting married and having a family, it's really his problem."

A Poem for the 4th
Thursday, July 4, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: ,

Fireworks over Green Lake in Seattle, July 4, 1947, courtesy of MyGreenLake.com

The 4th of July is the essence of summer. It's also the essence of the U.S. It takes place right at that golden moment, when the weather has grown hot but not too hot. People spill out of their homes in the evening with baskets and coolers full of American food and American beer. Blankets are spread, and bare feet touch grass. Everyone comes together, to one place, laughing and smiling and playing like children, and the fireworks, always bigger than remembered, crackle in the night sky.

Some people say that so much time has passed that holidays have begun to lose their meaning, but what better way to celebrate being free than to relax under the summer sky, listening to country singers try to define freedom to a twangy tune? What better way than to see and feel and experience things that just cannot be replicated anywhere else in the world?

I hope that everyone has an amazing Independence Day this year! Here's a little poem I love that is just right for the occasion. Not only does it remind me of the end of every 4th, it is beautiful and makes me lay back and think, as a good poem should.

Good Night 
by Carl Sandburg, 1920

Many ways to say good night.

Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
         spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.
They fizz in the air, touch the water and quit.
Rockets make a trajectory of gold-and-blue
         and then go out.

Railroad trains at night spell with a smokestack mushrooming a white pillar.

Steamboats turn a curve in the Mississippi crying a baritone that crosses lowland
cottonfields to razorback hill.

It is easy to spell good night.
        Many ways to spell good night.

Help Start the Cthulhu Wars
Tuesday, July 2, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , ,

This is a call for donations to make possible what may turn out to be one of the best board games ever made.  The game is called Cthulhu Wars.  Just in case you didn't already know, I am a huge fan of H.P. Lovecraft and the Cthulhu Mythos.  I <3 anything Cthulhu, and that is why I want to see this game become everything it has the potential to be.

If you donate money toward its production, you will not only be helping the game's makers to reach their goals, you will also be getting rewards in return based on the size of your donation.  The rewards include the game itself, expansions, dice, figurines, t-shirts, and signed art prints. Think of it more like a pre-order for all of these goodies!  Here's a little video to give you the gist of what you would be supporting.  Also, you can read the rules here.

Donations are accepted through a Kickstarter fund created by Sandy Peterson, the mastermind behind Chaosium's original Call of Cthulhu game.  He has already raised enough money not only to produce the game but to offer several expansions and present a higher quality product.  There are currently 3,288 backers who have together given a total of $837,942.  That's amazing, right?!


There are several stretch goals that have yet to be met, and I know that I and the people generously backing this game would love to see even more figurines and expansions.  Plus, if you make a donation of $200 or higher, you'll receive all the free prizes associated with the stretch goals, and there are A LOT of them.  Do not fret if you aren't Daddy Warbucks; you can pledge as little or as much as you like, and prizes start at just $10.

Donations/pre-orders will no longer be accepted after Sunday, July 7, 2013.  So please, for the love of all things in R'lyeh, click on the widget below and give what you can to make this game epic.

Bookstore of the Month: Hall's Bookshop
Sunday, June 30, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , ,

Remember my post a few days ago about a little movie called The Last Bookshop?  Because I loved the film so much, I thought it would be very appropriate to make the very first Bookstore of the Month Hall's Bookshop, where much of the filming took place.  While many other bookshops were used in its making, the exterior of Hall's was featured prominently throughout the movie.

Although I'm pretty sure none of my readers live in the U.K., it's still a very interesting place to learn about, especially if you one day plan to visit.  Located in the town of Royal Tunbridge Wells (could there be a more English name for a place?) in Kent, Hall's Bookshop is an antiquarian bookseller that has been in business for over a hundred years.  Don't be intimidated though!  While Hall's does have a selection of rare and valuable books and a book-finding service for those hard-to-find must-haves, the majority of their stock is £10 and under, and they're famous for their 10 pence box.  They also buy used books from their customers, much as other used bookstores do, and can tell you the value of your rare books .

The atmosphere inside the store is my favorite type: a beautiful old building that is filled wall to wall, floor to ceiling with books.  It's the kind of place a bibliophile could move into and call home.

See what I mean?  If I were to go to England, I know that I would have to devote an entire day just to this one store, especially considering my love for old and rare books of all sorts.

If you'd like to pay them a visit or get in touch with them about any questions you may have, I've provided an address, contact information, and a map below.  Their hours are 9:30 am to 5:00 pm GMT, Monday through Saturday.  According to their website, they do offer a mailing service if you are unable to carry all of your books home with you, but it doesn't state whether or not they will mail to international addresses.  Also, like many places in Europe and the surrounding countries, they do not accept debit or credit cards, so come with cash in hand.  Happy travels, and may all your paths lead you to more books!

Hall's Bookshop
20-22 Chapel Place
Tunbridge Wells


01892 527 842

Bookstore Tourism
Friday, June 28, 2013 by Miss K in Labels: , ,

Buy a copy of Portzline's book here
So I've always been one to fall in love with the book stores I go to, and sometimes I'll even travel quite a ways just to visit the special ones.  That's why I'm so captivated by this fairly new concept of bookstore tourism.

So what is this thing?  Bookstore tourism is where you, either by yourself or with a group of other bibliophiles, make a particularly interesting bookstore your travel goal and then, well... travel to it.  The self-styled originator of bookstore tourism and author of Bookstore Tourism, Larry Portzline, says on his website that the goal of bookstore tourism is to support independent bookstores by promoting them as a travel destination.  Portzline himself used to lead "bookstore road trips" to New York, where the 50 people aboard his chartered bus would visit about 20 independent booksellers in Greenwich Village.

Now we all know that independent bookstores are now more than ever in need of customers and the boost that bookstore tourism can offer, what with the advent of the e-book and all.  I've seen a lot of unique and interesting bookstores, and it would be a terrible, terrible shame if any of them were to go out of business.  Because I know that they would appreciate me pointing you in their direction and because I think it would be super fun do some of my own bookstore touring, I'm going to start highlighting one independent bookstore each month!  Who's else is excited?!
I couldn't resist throwing this in to express the excitement
Each bookstore that I post about will have something truly wonderful about it that makes it worth traveling to reach.  I'll give you information on all my old favorites, plus some new ones that I hope to visit especially for this blog (I hear Nashville has some awesome bookstores).  I'd also like to post about some of the really beautiful ones all around the world, even though I might never see them all in person. Be looking out for June's bookstore in my next post!

But if you just can't wait that long to read about amazing bookstores, you can pay a visit to Travel Between the Pages, a blog I found while researching this post.  There are tons of posts on bookstore tourism, but really all of the posts on the blog are fascinating and worth a read.

 Until next time, happy reading and happy travels!