BookCrossing: Brat Farrar

My wife and I took our kids to Seattle for a couple of nights—"three glorious days and two wonderful nights in the Emerald City!"—and while the main purpose was to see the Blue Jays vs the Mariners, we also did quite a bit of walking around. One visit, of course, was to the Space Needle. Or the Space Noodle, as the kids renamed it. At the base of the Noodle I wild released two books and one of them, Brat Farrar, received a journal entry catch before I could even make release notes. Admittedly the release notes weren't going to be made until 31 hours after the release time, but hey, a quick catch should be celebrated regardless, and a same-day catch is a quick catch in my books, and should be in your books too.

Speaking of books, here's the same-day catch of the aforementioned wild released book:

haven't read it yet but it looks interesting

a just barely overheard remark

These one-sided conversations had begun, naturally enough, during the first few days when he had tried watching television (Denton brought a little portable, thinking the diversion might help).

"Oh, let's the fuck not!" he had cried to the silver-haired uncle type who had implored: "Let's talk for just a moment about constipation." And when the prim and proper lard ass Aunt Nell walked into the young bride's new house, turned up her little snout, and made a just barely overheard remark about "house-i-tosis," Cassidy got up from his chair, muttering softly: that, really, will not do. He unplugged the set, wrapped the cord around the handle, and placed it in the oven (which he used only for heating the kitchen).

"You're going to stay in there until you goddamn well learn some manners," he informed Aunt Nell, and then promptly forgot about her. And not just her. He also forgot about the legions of thrombosed bridge partners, impotent husbands, adorably precocious children, and finicky pets. Cassidy thought: Descendants of spelling bee champions and fellers of giant trees are harangued about the slings and arrows of lower tract distress. A monk sets himself afire in the street and folks run for the marshmallows. Or am I being picky?

After that, when he wasn't running or sleeping, he just read.

When his eyes tired, he tried just sitting.

-- Once a Runner by John L. Parker, Jr.

BookCrossing: Dead Solid Perfect

I'm posting this the very same day this book got caught, because I'm just so damn excited! It's been a while since I've had a wild catch and this entry for Dead Solid Perfect was a welcome sight, especially with its revelation that in less than 3 weeks the book has gone from Canada to Australia! After learning that the book was caught, I noticed that the date of release was 11 years to the day after the date of registration - 11 years of just sitting on my shelf gathering dust. And now, just 15 days after being freed, let's hope the book enjoys its new lease on life thousands of kilometres from home.

Here's the catch:

I picked up the book on a table in Starbucks located on Parkway Blvd in Coquitlam, BC Canada. On May 24th. It was days before our family vacation to Australia, so I decided to take the book on my plane ride and leave it in Sydney Australia.
I found the book to be very easy reading and as a golfer myself it was very funny!
This book is now left on a table in a Sydney Starbucks!

"run through" the thing

The object, according to Denton, was to "run through" the thing, just as he maintained one should attempt to "run through" most of those other little hubcaps life rolls into your lane; everything from death in the family to cancer of the colon.

Breaking down was not a required checkpoint on the road to competitive fitness. In fact, many coaches warned against it. But Denton viewed it as an opportunity to leapfrog over months of safer, less strenuous training, thus tempering survival-hardened muscles. The alternative, total rest, was too much the other extreme, the easy way out. That wouldn't do.

The toll on the runner—and those around him—was high, psychologically as well as physically. He became weak, depressed; he needed twelve to fourteen hours of sleep a night. He was literally desperate for rest, spent his waking hours with his legs elevated, in a state of general irritability. He became asexual, rendered, in the world of the immortal limerick, really quite useless on dates. He was a thoroughly unpleasant person.

-- Once a Runner by John L. Parker, Jr.

500 meters and simply

Later that spring when Denton made the U.S. Olympic team, nearly everyone professed surprise. Everyone except Dr. Stavius and a promising young miler named Quenton Cassidy, who watched the U.S. trials on television. True to form, Denton powered across the finish line in the 5000 meters and simply jogged past the cameras over to his sweats and departed the stadium. Everyone had ignored him for so long, it seemed to Cassidy a delicious gesture.

-- Once a Runner by John L. Parker, Jr.

Trial of Miles

There is time, he would tell them; time and time and time. He wanted to impart some of the truths Bruce Denton had taught him, that you don't become a champion by winning a morning workout. The only true way is to marshal the ferocity of your ambition over the course of many days, weeks, months, and (if you could finally come to accept it) years. The Trial of Miles; Miles of Trials. How could he make them understand?

-- Once a Runner by John L. Parker, Jr.

clear, turquoise color

My first feeling was a wild desire to drive a stake in the sand and claim the place for myself. The beach was white as salt, and cut off from the world by a ring of steep hills that faced the sea. We were on the edge of a large bay and the water was that clear, turquoise color that you get with a white sand bottom. I had never seen such a place. I wanted to take off all my clothes and never wear them again.

-- The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

through a crack

One Monday morning I was awakened by what sounded like children being butchered outside the window. I looked through a crack in the shutter and saw about fifteen tiny Puerto Ricans, dancing on the sidewalk and tormenting a three-legged dog. I cursed them viciously and hurried up to Al's for breakfast.

-- The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

usually it was rum

He seemed honest enough with me, and in those rare moments when he relaxed I enjoyed him immensely. But it was not often that he dropped his guard, and usually it was rum that made him do it. He relaxed so seldom that his natural moments had an awkward, childish quality that was almost pathetic. He had come so far from himself that I don't think he knew who he was anymore.

-- The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

drunk, dirty and no more

... and the best that can be said of that staff is that they were a strange and unruly lot. At best they were unreliable, and at worst they were drunk, dirty and no more dependable than goats.

-- The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

laughing at where

'You were laughing at where I work.'

'So? You do!'

'Yes, because I work there. I'm laughing in the face of adversity, you're just laughing in my face!'

-- One Day by David Nicholls

BookCrossing: Room

I wanted to wild release Room but I was slightly hesitant. It's a popular book and I wanted it to find an appreciative reader. It's a hardcover and there was a threat of spring rain. I decided to release Room onto a sheltered public bookshelf and I'm glad I released it when and where I did because it sure did find an appreciative reader, or at least an appreciative finder as there hasn't been a post-reading update since the catch was made last July.

Here's the bookshelf:

And here's the catch:

This is my first book crossing book. I loved the film, and as I usually enjoy the books more than I do the films that are based on the books I was ecstatic when I saw this in the little "take a book, leave a book" house in front of the Port Moody Arts Centre. I am going to begin reading the book tonight and will let you know what I think of it, and then I will pass the book on.

BookCrossing: Last Summer At Barebones

There's not much to say about this catch, so first allow me to mention that you can see a list of all the catches from my BookCrossing wild releases – which also includes links to the books at BookCrossing – by clicking here. There we go, thank you for allowing me to do that. Back to this specific catch..

Last Summer At Barebones was released inside a Georgia Straight newspaper box one Vancouver evening in January 2016 and was captured from said box the next day, according to the journal entry that was made a few days later.

Here's the catch:

Went to get a Georgia Straight out of the box the afternoon of January 3rd, and was delighted to find this book waiting there. Looking forward to what looks to be a good read!

BookCrossing: Man Crazy

As of today, of all the books I've wild released and have also heard back from, Man Crazy has stayed in the wild the longest, for a total of 2,910 days – almost exactly 2.5 times as long as my second longest in-the-wild book, Daughters and Mothers. (You can see how I copy-and-pasted from that post from earlier today!) Daughters and Mothers was in the wild for 1,195 days.. 1,195 X 2.5 = 2,987.5

I released Man Crazy at Vancouver's PNE in August 2006 and it remained MIA until August 2014 when this journal entry was made:

I found this book today on the Bargain Books shelf (donated books) at the Richmond Public Library (Brighouse Branch) and I bought it for twenty-five cents. I was delighted to find this book. I really enjoy Joyce Carol Oates' writing. A few years ago, I met her at the Vancouver Public Library when she was on a book tour to promote her non-fiction memoir: "A Widow's Story". After she read out a part of her book, I bought a copy and got her to sign it. Since then I have been reading her books which I mostly get from the library. She is a prolific writer and even though she is in her seventies, she is still writing books. I particularly liked "We were the Mulvaneys". I am looking forward to reading this book.