Of books and libraries

My parents recently joined a new club. When I first heard the news, I started dreaming of going there for the occasional swim and perhaps using the gym. That was until my mom told me that being over 18, I'm not allowed to use any of the club's facilities as my parents' guest until they become fully-fledged members in two years' time. So there went my dreams, rudely burst like so many pin-pricked helium-filled balloons.

Because of this, I was determined not to be impressed by the club and its facilities when we went for lunch today. Until we came across the library. It's a small, cosy library, filled with mostly old and fraying books. I loved it, though. I have very strict criteria by which I judge any bookstore or library that I come across. If the establishment doesn't meet this criteria, I view it as a dismal failure and will only grudgingly go there if I have no other option. And what is this criteria? Whether they have books by Terry Pratchett, and whether they have comfy armchairs.

What? I didn't say they were particularly profound criteria.

This particular library had half a shelf dedicated to Terry. They don't have his complete works, but they do have a respectable amount of his books. As bonuses, I also found some by Robin Hobb and Eoin Colfer although they didn't have any by Robert Asprin. So I borrowed three books, including one of Terry's. I've read them all, but his gems are always worth another read or four. Me happy :)

One of these days, when I finally settle down somewhere, I will start collecting his books. Thanks, Pegs, for starting my collection :)