The French editions of volumes 2-7 of FAKE went for 101 EUR on ebay.fr last week. That's more than I would have been willing to pay for them, never mind the shipping on top of that, plus I have plenty to read among the books I did buy in France. Still, it's maddening.

There's a tennis book from the library I've been making my way through over the past couple of weeks, and after wincing through assorted typos and formatting clunkers, I finally muttered, "I wonder if this was published by [major house not known for their quality control]?" Sure enough, when I checked the back cover...

On the one hand, it's a bit depressing, since I distinctly remember lecturing representatives of said publisher on their subpar production values around a decade ago. On the other hand, it's nice being able to remind myself that I do possess a fair amount of expertise. (Sometimes it's on a more positive note, along the lines of "Cool, that's totally a Schiffer title" or "How many of those Pulitzer nominees are Knopf's?") It helps me get through weeks like this, when I'm finding my way around Office 2007's "ribbon" and I have to look up Chicago's rules for formatting inclusive numbers again. (I do it often enough, but it's like driving to my friend Gail's house: I'm there several times a year, but if I don't look it up each time, I end up taking the wrong exit, which then results in me trying to find my way back from Smyrna or Antioch, and that's just sad.)

One of the inherent joys of the job is learning more about what I didn't know before: the current project introduced me to UNAIDS' Terminology Guidelines, which is a fascinating document.

Mary's book is now available. It's beautifully designed and I'm impressed by how quickly my order was processed and shipped.