While I was growing up, my father often recited to his children the great poems of the 19th century that he had memorized in public school.  In elementary and high school, I had excellent teachers, especially English teachers.  I majored in English on both the undergraduate and graduate levels, and now teach English at a local community college.  I love reading, I despise censorship, and that minister down in Florida who planned to burn the Quran is a knucklehead.  So why will I be burning half of my personal library in my fireplace this winter?  Stay tuned.

A week or two ago, I placed an advertisement in the local Pennysaver advertising a monstrous weekend book sale.  The advertisement ran during the week before the sale and on the Internet for two weeks.  I e-mailed friends, relatives, and neighbors, asking them to tell their friends, relatives, and neighbors about my sure-to-be-fabulous sale.  I added a posting on Craigslist to ensure the digital crowd knew about the sale.  After 36 hours, the posting still has not appeared.  I made stunning posters advertising the event.

On sale days, the posters appeared around the neighborhood at major intersections, giving clear directions to my house.  I left no telephone pole unadorned.  My books -- including many collectibles -- are in very good condition, and I priced my books very low so they would fly off the porch in record time.  However, by the end of Sunday evening, I had had no more than twenty visitors over two days, and sold only $100 worth of books.  No one under the age of 35 came to the sale, and most buyers were in their 50s or above.

The Pennysaver advertisement cost me $25, and poster supplies cost $5.  (While the neighborhood posters brought in about fifteen buyers, the printed advertisement brought in only five.)  The neighbor boy (and his buddy) who helped un-box and later re-box all of my wares (I am recovering from surgery) cost me nearly $30 in labor fees.  Thus, I netted only $40 from sitting on my porch for two full sale days.

Before the book sale, I had tried to sell books to multiple used and rare bookstores, but the stores took almost nothing.  I had lugged twenty boxes of books to a local sandwich shop during our a farmer’s market weekend, which generated lots of foot traffic but netted only $25 worth of books at that venue.  Then, of course, I had to lug the books back home.

My alma mater does not want my books.  A friend who is president of a college in California will take all the books, but shipping costs across the country would run me over $600.  Closer colleges and universities will take the books, but shipping to those locales could cost up to $250.  The local library's resale shop will take my books, but only the fiction, and will not pick up from my house.  Parking in front of the downtown store is non-existent.

In short, I have tried to sell my books.  I have tried to donate my books.  I have tried to give away my books.  I have advertised, used word of mouth, used traditional advertising venues, and exploited the Internet.  I cannot get rid of my books.  No one will take my books.  My books are a burden and weight upon me, my wife, and the rafters of our home.  I am desperate.

Therefore, next week, I am taking half of the unsold books to the town dump.  The rest are going in the fireplace this winter.  Please, don't judge me.