July 2012: I limited myself to one armful between Powell’s and Broadway Books, which is quite frugal for me. Only one title was on my hit list, “City,” by William H. Whyte. I loaned my treasured copy to a friend several years ago and missed it. The rest, however, were unplanned discoveries that bring a type of bliss that only browsing a good bookstore can bring. I devour good writing and enjoy rereading well-crafted sentences, which is why three Alexandar Hemon novels are on top. I found two Wendell Berry collections that I didn’t have and added one that stopped me in my tracks. “November Twenty Six Nineteen Hundred Sixty Three” is a poem he wrote in the wake of JFK’s death that is illustrated by Ben Shahn, one of my favorite artists. “Rogue River Journal,” about one man’s winter alone in the woods, is a type of book that always has a place in my library. Similarly, Thoreau’s “The Journal” makes a nice companion and is destined to be a dog-eared regular in my bag. I enjoy Adam Gopnik’s writing in The New Yorker immensely and can’t wait to dig into his memoir of moving to Paris with his wife and newborn.