I strolled through Barnes & Noble tonight on my own. No kid, no distractions, no time table. I haven’t done that in a long time. We used to hang out at Barnes & Noble quite a lot. We had a book addiction, fueled by the used section at the B&N in Roseville (one of only a handful across the country).

Unfortunately I couldn’t get into it. The latest Buffy comic was tempting but fleeting, and even the gift card burning a hole in my pocket didn’t help. Maybe next time.

But just like every time I wander the books, I was reminded of the enormity of the publishing industry. The massive number of books that are published every year is staggering (something like 175,000). It’s hard for good stories to stand out.