Recently, I became hooked on a video game for the first time since I was a teenager in the early days of home computers. While my children checked Instagram in the evenings, I would fire up Star Wars: Galaxy of Heroes on my phone. After my wife began to tease me for becoming as much a phone slave as the kids, I began to think about why this game interested me so much. And then it hit me, it's the digital equivalent of my major collecting interest: vintage Star Wars toys. I've collected Star Wars figures since the late 1970s, when I could actually achieve the collector's ideal: owning a complete set of all the figures in existence. The toy industry quickly moved such aspirations far, far beyond my financial means, but I never fully gave up collecting Star Wars figures even as other interests and obsessions came and went. Today, I have an attic full of vintage Star Wars toys, but they only ever come out a couple of times a year. (As I'm also a book collector and writer, and have worked in the book industry for almost 20 years, the shelf space must go to the book collection, which is very much a working library.) The game I got hooked on is essentially those 4-inch plastic figures come to life. You assemble squads and embark on missions, fighting against the Empire — essentially a continuation of the battles I acted out with my figures in childhood. But what's so addicting is collecting the characters. You get a handful at the start, and must unlock others through game play. S... [more Why Do We Collect?]

Independent rare book expert Rebecca Romney remembers the great Italian linguist and writer Umberto Eco, who died last week. For a young woman who trained as a linguist; who spent more hours in her college years reading in Latin than reading modern novels; who has a particularly delicate spot for Borges, and for Bruno Schultz; and who found her calling in the rare book world, Umberto Eco was like a lodestar. I feel as if I followed him everywhere. After my first experience with his work, I didn't rush out and buy every book with his name on it; I watched life bring me the opportunities instead. I'd stop in a bookstore and begin searching the shelves for an Eco I hadn't read yet. I especially looked forward to plunking down next to the Essay section in a small independent bookstore on that (always and inevitably) hard carpet, boots splayed in odd directions, leaning forward to scan the titles. I searched with the special pleasure of anticipation (even when some older man would tell me with scorn that Umberto Eco is found in the fiction section). Then, I searched after books he had mentioned in his prose. I let his words guide me wherever they would. What is frequently appreciated in many so-called symbols is exactly their vagueness, their openness, their fruitful ineffectiveness to express a 'final' meaning, so that with symbols and by symbols one indicates what is always beyond one's reach. —Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language, Umberto Eco, 1984 And yes, of course, I d... [more Umberto Eco: In Memoriam]

Eight years ago, shortly after buying Eureka Books, we acquired a collection of Japanese interment posters. These broadsides had been posted in early 1942 throughout California, Oregon, and Washington, notifying “all persons of Japanese ancestry” that they were to be banned from coastal areas. The relocation of more than 100,000 Japanese Americans and Japanese immigrants could not be organized overnight, so the U.S. Army established 110 zones, rolling out the relocation orders over several months. The posters were issued in pairs, two for each zone. First, a “notice” from the Fourth Army, based at the Presidio in San Francisco, alerted Japanese-Americans to contact authorities for instructions. A second poster provided the “instructions to all persons of Japanese ancestry,” prohibiting them from moving freely and warning of imprisonment if they did not voluntarily report to relocation centers (often schools or other public buildings). American citizens were treated exactly like Japanese citizens: they were forced into hastily built camps with whatever possessions they could carry. Many lost their homes and farms in the process. A matched set of Japanese internment posters for Los Angeles. Even though the Supreme Court permitted the interment of native-born citizens of Japanese descent, the unbridled xenophobia the swept the West Coast in the early days of the Second World War is now seen as one of the more shameful periods of the 20th century. When my grandmother ... [more Documenting WWII Japanese-American Internment]

The third installment of Kaitlin Manning's series on taking better pictures of rare books and ephemera. After buying a camera, learning how to use it, and setting up your home studio, the natural next step is to actually start taking photos, right? Ah, would that it were! One very important and often overlooked step for those new to digital photography is to consider how you will process and store your images, otherwise known as creating a “workflow.” This is a crucial step. Your workflow will encompass the entire lifecycle of your images, from calibrating your camera to archiving your files, and therefore must be considered carefully. You will want to commit your workflow to paper, listing out each step of your process so that you can refer back to it, maintain consistency, and ensure fast and easy image retrieval later on. Ideally, you would carefully plan out your workflow before you even take your first image; in reality, you probably already have a bunch of images on your computer organized in a (more or less) logical way, but which probably do not follow a rigid set of rules. For the moment, don't worry about the images that you already have – focus on a fresh start. Later on, once you have a solid system in place and as time allows, you may want to consider updating your old files to match your new, gloriously organized ones. Below is a very brief overview of the basic questions you must consider for a robust and efficient workflow. This is by no means an exhaust... [more The Savvy Bookseller: Establishing a Photography Workflow]

Much has been written in the wake of Ian Fraser "Lemmy" Kilmister's passing. But lost amidst all the accolades and remembrances of the Motorhead frontman who married the sounds of heavy metal and punk and almost single-handedly invented thrash is the fact that he was the son of a librarian and an avid reader throughout his life (one assumes this was by virtue of nurture, rather than nature, as his father was a minister in the Royal Air Force). One might not expect the artist who wrote “Killed by Death” and “The Game,” the entrance theme song for WWE wrestler Triple H, to be particularly bookish. But as his friend and sometime collaborator Ozzy Osbourne recalled, there was much more to the man than his legendary appetite for booze and speed: “To look at Lemmy, you'd never think he was as educated as he was. People look at the music we do and the way we look, and they go, 'Oh, this bunch is a bunch of yobbos. They don't know what they're doing. They're bad people.' But it's not true. Lemmy looks like an old biker, but he was so well read. He was very up on a lot of things. He was a very clever guy. On his bus on the first tour, he had a plaid suitcase and all he had in there was a pair of knickers and a pair of socks, and the rest was books. When he stayed with us, he'd stay in the library for three days, reading f—ing books.” Though the imagery of most Motorhead songs tended towards the sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll lifestyle Lemmy embodied, literature would from... [more Lemmy: A Real Son of a… Librarian]

It's a town well-known for the Silver Screen—a place where dreamers flock in search of stardom, celebrity, fame, and fortune. But beyond the glitz and glam of Hollywood Boulevard, Rodeo Drive, and movie studio backlots, the City of Angels possesses a rich, complex literary history that transcends genres, styles, and aesthetics. While perhaps not quite the powerhouse of arts and letters as some of the city's East Coast rivals, L.A. has been home to some of the most creative, interesting, and influential writers of the last century. But much like the city itself—a burgeoning, diverse metropolis of different cultures, traditions, and enclaves—discovering L.A.'s fertile literary history requires a little digging, and to truly appreciate the city's place in the American literary cannon, one must be willing to steer clear of the Hollywood Walk of Fame and stroll down some side streets and alleyways. As you'll see, what you find there is well worth the trouble. Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) Often associated with the tail-end of the Beat Generation, Charles Bukowski was born in Germany and emigrated to Los Angeles in 1930. Brought up in a lower-middle class household, Bukowski's stories, novels, and poems reflect his working-class background and address the day-to-day drudgery of dead-end jobs, familial discontent, and struggles with drugs and alcohol. While honing his craft in some of L.A.'s most trouble neighborhoods—he was a regular as the famous King Eddy Saloon in the cit... [more Five Los Angeles Writers]

Dr. Samuel J. Hessel died last September of pancreatic cancer. A radiologist by training, he gradually turned an interest in rare books into a second career as an antiquarian book dealer after his retirement from the medical profession in the mid-1990s. He later served on the ABAA board of directors as treasurer. Several ABAA members offered remembrances of Samuel Hessel: Michael Thompson writes: Dear fellow booksellers and all friends of Sam Hessel, I feel that I must write a letter, but it is too hard. I still hurt too much. I am envious of the ability of the writers of so many letters; They describe Sam so perfectly and give him so much praise and tribute that I can't imagine doing better. I too knew Sam for many years, practically from the beginning of his partnership with Jim Manwarren. Not traveling to Phoenix all that much, most of my experiences were at book fairs and over the phone. He was truly a very warm, giving man who seemed to have unlimited interest and compassion for other people. I never called him where he didn't inquire very genuinely, very seriously about my wife Kathleen and our partner, Carol. He truly cared. I am jealous of those who knew him more and had the pleasure of traveling with him. Our experiences were always shorter. I first nominated Sam for membership on the Board and encouraged him when he doubted his right to be there. Of course he was perfect for any such position, and I know he served the ABAA very well, although I understand that he wa... [more In Memoriam: Dr. Samuel J. Hessel, 1945-2015]

All book collectors have stories of exceptional books found in unpromising circumstances -- we recently reviewed Rebecca Rego Barry's book on the topic, Rare Books Uncovered -- but perhaps few can top Pia Oliver's story of discovering two unknown manuscripts by Charlotte Brontë at a remore California ranch. One weekday morning a few years ago, the phone rang in the bookstore and I answered: “Randall House, Good Morning.” A woman's voice at the other end said “I need some help. We have inherited a lot of valuable and rare books and need help us to evaluate them and dispose of them.” I said, as I usually do “Tell me about the books,” while thinking “Oh yeah, sure, you have rare and valuable books …” We get many phone calls where people tell us that they have a first edition of Darwin's On the Origin of Species, or Jane Austen's Emma or any number of other books. It's not that people try to deceive or inflate their books, they simply don't know how to tell a used book from a collectible or rare book. And, let's face it, age impresses people. But I digress – back to my story. The lady at the other end of the telephone said “you probably get lots of calls like this but we really do have first editions and valuable books, let me tell you a little about them.” And I said, “please, go ahead.” What she told me peaked my interest, the provenance of the books were intriguing and decidedly “literate” and the way she spoke, very matter of fact, and when as... [more The Thrill of Discovery]

Longtime ABAA member Elizabeth Phillips passed away on December 14, 2015, after a short illness. She was born on November 5, 1958 in Philadelphia and grew up in Paris, France; Dutchess County, New York; and Lower Merion Township, Pennsylvania. Ms. Phillips studied book arts at Mills College, received a BA in English Literature and Art History from Oberlin College in 1980 and was subsequently awarded a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship in 1980-81 to study the livre de peintre in Europe. Her business, Elizabeth Phillips Rare Books, was created shortly after her return to the United States in 1982. She has been a member of the ABAA since 1983. With a tremendous passion for fine art and literature and her ability to share her expertise with clients, business associates and institutions, Ms. Phillips has been a highly respected private dealer in rare livres d'artistes, specializing in Russian and European avant-garde for the past thirty years. She built museum-quality collections for individuals and institutions, including, the Museum of Modern Art, The Beinecke Library, The New York Public Library, The Library of Congress, The Getty Center, and the Bibliothèque Nationale. In 1993, she co-curated the exhibition "The American Livre de Peintre" at the Grolier Club in New York with colleague Tony Zwicker, co-authoring an illustrated exhibition catalogue of the same title. In 1996, Ms. Phillips was featured in New York Magazine's, “The Best of New York", as one of the premier dealers in ... [more Elizabeth Phillips, 1958-2015]

On Black Friday, I got an email from Barnes & Noble trumpeting their (discounted) signed books! The most notable thing about the email -- besides their rather dubious claim to have the greatest selection of signed books “in the world” 1 -- was that this was their primary marketing message, the pitch they were pinning their financial hopes on: signed books were going to make their Black Friday a success. This email highlighted for me something that I've noticed growing over the past few years: a new emphasis on signed books, a new belief in the value of an author's signature. To put this in context, six years ago I worked for a small publisher and spent my time calling on bookstores trying to get them excited about our books. Occasionally, we would have a novel with breakout potential, and an additional challenge would then be to get it picked by a store's first edition club. At the time, you could count the bookstores with first edition clubs on one hand, and have fingers left over. Today, independent bookstores in the US are starting first edition clubs with gusto, and any store worth its salt appears to have at least one and sometimes several focusing on different genres. Why this sudden burst of interest in encouraging book collecting at trade bookstores? Why organize your holiday marketing around your selection of signed books? Quite simply, it's an opportunity to provide something that big internet retailers cannot. First edition clubs typically emphasize literary qu... [more First Edition Clubs]