As an informal poll, I’m curious how many readers here may share the following reaction:

Through unexpected circumstances, you end up somewhere else. You’ve failed to bring any sort of book whatsoever. In fact, you didn’t even bother to bring your backpack. Now you’re faced with the circumstances of traveling back to your original destination where the bag and the book sare. But through some strange alignment of the cosmos, there’s not only nothing to read nearby, but nowhere to buy anything decent. Not even so much as an issue of the New Yorker that you’ve already read.

Of course, you can tough it out. At least that’s what you believe you can do. But reading is such an ingrained part of your life that, with the exception of rampant copulation, you can’t think of a life without it. Whenever there’s a spare moment or the eyes can’t stay shut at 2 AM, the book is there to comfort you, to transport or inform you, and to provide a certain equilibrium that puts existence into a certain perspective.

Without that dependable security, you start to pace. You try desperately to find other things to do. You talk to the strangest people who might be in the same boat. Or something else.

You see, that’s where you folks come in.

What is it that you, dear readers, do when there’s nothing available to read? Do you read street signs? Do you get excited over the directions on a bottle of aspirin? To what degree does the reading experience become somewhat sociopathic, where the eyes must rest upon words and the imagination transported in order to remain of sound and jovial mind?

Since I’ve received a few emails on the subject, the rumors are indeed true. I’ll be at BookExpo America this year, where I’ll be covering the event and the panels with gusto. If you’re interested in hooking up sometime while I’m in New York, please don’t hesitate to drop me a line.

As noted by Ron, the LBC will also be having a party on Thursday night at the Slipper Room on Thursday, June 2nd between 6-8 PM. Several of your favorite bloggers (including me) will be there. So do feel free to say hello.

If you’re wondering about the LBC nominations, at the main site, I’ve given some clues to folks who are wondering about the titles.

• Ian Rankin describes a week in his life, and it’s about as routine as Rebus.
• The rights to Nick Hornby’s A Long Way Down have been sold. Hornby has earned enough to add a west wing to his home. Will he remember the little people?
• Ms. Chicha deconstructs the strange trend of legs and shoes on current covers.
• Forget historical integrity. There’s a plan in Salem to erect a Bewitched statue at the busiest intersection. Residents are understandably miffed. After all, the least this statue can offer is a twitching nose.
• Maybe this is the literary video game folks are championing: Sony has one in the works based on The Tale of Genji.
• Librarians are employing comics to get kids to read. It was either that or free ice cream.
• John Updike reviews Mo Yan’s Big Breast & Wide Hips. We’re positive the title had nothing to do with his selection.
• Search Engine Watch compares the current book search engines.
• Ed Levine scarfed down 1,000 slices of pizza to research his book. He also filed a petition to change his last name to Pepperoni.
• More on Wasserman: He’s heading back to publishing. The gang at LA Observed also has the memo issued.

Mitch Albom has apologized for fabricating his column. Where other columnists would be sacked on the spot, Albom, by contrast, has been permitted to continue his career. What’s particularly interesting are the parallels between Albom’s apologetic column and Richard Nixon’s famous “Checkers” speech from 1952:

STEP ONE: Repeat An Adjective Three Times for Emphasis

NIXON: “I say that it was morally wrong if any of that $18,000 went to Senator Nixon for my personal use. I say that it was morally wrong if it was secretly given and secretly handled. And I say that it was morally wrong if any of the contributors got special favors for the contributions that they made.”
ALBOM: “I felt terrible for the mistake, terrible that my newspaper had to take heat, terrible that my editors were besieged.”

STEP TWO: Acknowledge Yourself as a Public Servant With a Clipped Sentence

NIXON: “I come before you tonight.”
ALBOM: “I write for you.”

STEP THREE: Declare That the Battle Isn’t Over With a Stunning Statement of Personal Strength

NIXON: “But let me just say this last word. Regardless of what happens I’m going to continue this fight.”
ALBOM: “And know this: Just as you can’t assume the future, you can’t always assume human nature.”

STEP FOUR: Underplay the Sin

NIXON: “Every penny of it was used to pay for political expenses that I did not think should be charged to the taxpayers of the United States. It was not a secret fund.”
ALBOM: “I made a careless mistake in a column. It wasn’t malicious. It didn’t harm the subjects. But it was factually incorrect in four paragraphs.”

STEP FIVE: Refer to Past as “Dark”

NIXON: “I remember in the dark days of the Hiss case…”
ALBOM: “The last three weeks have been the darkest yet most enlightening of my professional life. The dark part is obvious.”

STEP SIX: Respond with Subtle Libertarian Ethical Statement

NIXON: “Every penny of it was used to pay for political expenses that I did not think should be charged to the taxpayers of the United States.”
ALBOM: “Besides, in 20 years of doing this column, I have never written for those people.”

Laila notes that Michael Standaert’s book-length examination of the Left Behind series will be published by the good folks at Soft Skull.