Call Me Old-Fashioned

I remember when school book clubs sold, you know, BOOKS.

Back when I was a kid in New Guinea, the book club was practically the only way to get new books. I'd spend hours agonising over my selection, and then when the parcel of three or four books arrived, exuding that special new-book smell, it was better than Christmas.

But now there seem to be hardly any actual books in the catalogues. It's all kitty pendants, and movie tie-in calendars, and lockable diaries with "free" electronic pens, and puppy posters, and spy kits with voice changers, and mosaic makers. I get that all these add-ons are probably intended to make kids excited about the books. But it seems to me that ultimately what all these bells and whistles do is make the books themselves appear less exciting.

Bah humbug.

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