When I was a kid, I bought over 50 used, hardcover Tom Swift, Jr. and Hardy Boys books at my church’s annual rummage sale. If I remember correctly, they only cost me five or ten cents apiece.

I spent many hours nestled up in the branches of a crabapple tree — and many more hours sitting under a pyramid of covers in bed, with a flashlight, late at night — reading those enthralling adventures. [more...]