Wake up from your Disney dream Munching.

Treasure.

Books.

Literary Lusts.

With Extra Pulp

The librarian narrator in The Abortion by Richard Brautigan is aDORable. He is impossibly awkward, likes younger women (which goes perfectly with my thing for older men) AND he’s the most dedicated librarian you’ll ever meet. 

Okay sure, he didn’t actually ever leave the library (which was also kind of his house) for the entire time he worked there, and okay, sure he got his girlfriend pregnant and then took her to Mexico for reasons you can probably guess at based on the title of the book. BUT his library was the library of dreeaaammmssss. It was where Joe or Jo Writer-Schmuck could bring the book that they wrote, about anything, from masturbation to instructions on growing flowers by lamplight or something. And the library would log it and stock it. It was like a giant “eff you” to the publishing industry and a big warm fuzzy writerly hug at the same time.

Plus I kinda dig older men who are into books and hermit-life. Is there something wrong with that? Of course not. 

I wish my brain would conjure up a megababe like Adrien Brody. But librarians aren’t mega babes. Well, the male ones are.

So I present to you, my abortion-condoning, socially stunted, writer-nurturing librarian. He kinda looks like Wes Anderson. And I’m not really complaining.

Note: On the left—mmmmm librarian. On the right—mmmmmm megababe.