While in search of additional titles, I often come across some fascinating used books: editions I didn't know existed, fascinating subjects, and even autographed copies.
Last week, while surfing a used book site, I even encountered a book autographed by me! The seller had written up a description: Candles in the Dark--used copy in good condition autographed by the author.
Now, whenever I encounter one of my own books autographed by me, I have to ask several questions:
1. When did I autograph this book (seeing as how it sold only two copies)? Which copy was it?
This is troubling to me, as either my mother or my wife is trying to make a few measly bucks by unloading the book I signed for her. Becky denies short-selling our precious items, so it must be my mom. However, dad does need a hip replacement and if she sells my autographed book for $10.95 she could purchase a box of cotton swabs. Still, I don't trust my wife completely on this thing and, if I see a new blouse or skirt hanging in her closet, I'm going to confront her on this matter of selling my autographed book. You can bet she won't get another autograph from me. The next time I sign an autograph for my wife I'm using a Sharpie and signing my name on her backside where she can't wash it off.
2. Why didn't my autograph increase the value of the book?
Come on . . . usually a book autographed by the author shoots the book value into the stratosphere. What's up? $10.95? That's less than the original cover price, and usually, when I sign an autograph, I write something for the ages like, Best Wishes, or, Fun Smoking With Ya! Why is this moron now trying to sell my book online for a loss?
3. Did the person selling the book even read my book?
See, having to ask this question really galls me. But I see people buying books all the time who have no intention of actually reading a book. Men buy books to impress women (or in hope of getting laid). Many women buy books to impress the boss or to look sexy. Only the best of us buy a book to actually read it. That's why I buy books. God knows buying a book has never increased my other options. I buy books to increase my vast storehouse of knowledge about The Andy Griffith Show and to be able to quote Shakespeare to my 17-year-old son before he mows the lawn (...once more to the brink, dear friend! . . . alas, poor Yorick, I knew him well).
I don't buy books (absolutely don't buy books!) because I think it increases my chances to wrestle with my wife. She buys books, too. And every night she grades papers.
4. If I purchased this book myself, would this look vain?
There is a part of me that wants to redeem my own creation. Isn't that the gospel, after all? Oh, how I have wanted to gather all of my books unto myself, but I could not! (The Gospel of Hesitations 25:1) But my hope here is that some unsuspecting loser will purchase this autographed copy for $10.95 and in, say, six-and-a-half years, will be able to resell it for a profit of $1.05.
As my wife has told me, I just have to let go of this. Let go and let God. I need to find a better place, she tells me, a more solid emotional ground. I have. And I hope she enjoys her new blouse.
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