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Sunday when I went shopping (actually I had to waste a couple of hours while my computer was being worked on) I went into Barnes & Noble and indulged in my favorite pastime--roaming the aisles and buying books. One of those books included this title.
This wasn't the edition I bought, mostly because I couldn't stand the thought of owning the idiotic thing. See how strr--retttch--eddd out it looks, even in this picture? This is what I will call a Stupid Paperback. It's stupid because it's some misguided hybridization of a trade paperback and a mass market, standing at least an inch taller than the latter.
Now, I like trade paperbacks. They're a little more upscale, not quite as regal as Your Royal Highness the Queenly Hardback, nor as common as the mass market that sits and gulps its ale, pretending to speak in the clipped accent of its superiors. Trade paperbacks are like the heir born on the wrong side of the blanket who has an outside chance (if all his/her half siblings kick the bucket) of inheriting the title one day. They're friendly and genteel, and the only thing you have to watch with them is dog-earing the pages.
But stupid paperbacks? Bah. I glanced inside and was immediately disoriented by the longer pages. The rhythm of the typesetting seemed thrown off. This particular Stupid Paperback was pretty thick, and while I don't know exactly how many extra lines that works out to per page, it just made the book seem cumbersome and padded.
So I put it back and wandered into the Bargain section. Yes'm, I'm ashamed to say I haunt the remainder table. On this particular day, I found a hardback edition--make that a signed hardback edition--of the very same book, at a cheaper price than I would have paid for the Stupid Paperback!!
I don't know who on earth came up with the idea of publishing this book in such a format. I have all the previous V.I. Warshawski titles, but I would have passed on this one if I had not found the hardcover. Sara Paretsky ought to beat whoever approved this over the head with her laptop.
This wasn't the edition I bought, mostly because I couldn't stand the thought of owning the idiotic thing. See how strr--retttch--eddd out it looks, even in this picture? This is what I will call a Stupid Paperback. It's stupid because it's some misguided hybridization of a trade paperback and a mass market, standing at least an inch taller than the latter.
Now, I like trade paperbacks. They're a little more upscale, not quite as regal as Your Royal Highness the Queenly Hardback, nor as common as the mass market that sits and gulps its ale, pretending to speak in the clipped accent of its superiors. Trade paperbacks are like the heir born on the wrong side of the blanket who has an outside chance (if all his/her half siblings kick the bucket) of inheriting the title one day. They're friendly and genteel, and the only thing you have to watch with them is dog-earing the pages.
But stupid paperbacks? Bah. I glanced inside and was immediately disoriented by the longer pages. The rhythm of the typesetting seemed thrown off. This particular Stupid Paperback was pretty thick, and while I don't know exactly how many extra lines that works out to per page, it just made the book seem cumbersome and padded.
So I put it back and wandered into the Bargain section. Yes'm, I'm ashamed to say I haunt the remainder table. On this particular day, I found a hardback edition--make that a signed hardback edition--of the very same book, at a cheaper price than I would have paid for the Stupid Paperback!!
I don't know who on earth came up with the idea of publishing this book in such a format. I have all the previous V.I. Warshawski titles, but I would have passed on this one if I had not found the hardcover. Sara Paretsky ought to beat whoever approved this over the head with her laptop.
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