I didn't feel guilty Christmas shopping for myself. I luxuriated in the experience which isn't the point of the holiday, but retailers don't seem to care, so neither did I. I bought two copies of Joe Hill's fabulous collection 20th Century Ghost to give as gifts only to realize that I don't know two people that would get off on Hill's writing in the necessary way. Maybe I should start anonymously mailing books to my internet friends; at least I know some of them would enjoy the book. I bought The Sarantine Mosaic because GGK wrote it and I pretty much buy anything with his name on the cover. Lastly, I got The Oxford Companion to Beer for a friend who I know will love it. It is without doubt the most expensive gift I've ever gotten anyone other than myself.
I actually had to re-read this post to see that three of the four books I bought weren't for me; perhaps I'm not the Scrooge I though I was.
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