I do not have university library privileges, because acquiring them would involve extracting a letter from my publisher verifying that I am working on a relevant project. The trouble with that is, well, I’m not.
Completely aside from the fact that it is already hard enough getting royalties out of the people who have published my books, let alone affidavits.
This might be tolerable except our central public library closed years ago for “renovations.” In the meanwhile (and the amount of time is predicted to be much longer than anyone admitted before they knocked down the walls) we commoners are expected to make do with a bookmobile parked in the market square during odd hours.
Today I urgently needed a reference that could not be located online. I know exactly where the book sat in the stacks when the library was open, but of course it could not be extracted from the bookmobile, or a branch, unless I ordered it – and that wasn’t fast enough.
In the midst of my horrifying skirt shopping experience I dropped in the various bookstores without much hope, and my expectations proved correct: the title is out of print.
Bookstore staff informed me that it is easier and faster to order from Amazon resellers than use local resources to solve the problem.
There are many elements of life in Portland that I did not fully appreciate at the time – the wondrous downtown library, of course, but also the vast resource that is Powell’s. The obscure UK title I am seeking? It is, according to a quick search, sitting on a shelf in the Burnside store, priced at $8.50.