The old checking account took a bit of a hit tonight as we visited Barnes and Nobel after going to Fridays for dinner. We don’t have a ton of Christmas shopping to do, but as the book aunt, books are a part of everything we give.

As you know, earlier this week, I asked for help with some book suggestions for 6-8 year old boys. I was given some suggestions, but they didn’t feel quite right. These kids are more into dinosaurs and cowboys than fantasy at this point. And so, dressed in my fetching pink angora v-neck sweater and black felt beret sporting a pink rhinestone heart pin, jeans, and black ankle boots, I did what any self-respecting auntie would do: I accosted a total stranger.

Technically, I accosted three. I noticed a father and his young son who I thought might be nine-ish in the section for 7-to-12-year-old readers, and said, “Forgive me,” I said, “But I was wondering how old your son is.” The boy, shyly, said he was ten. “I wonder if you could do me a favor,” I asked, “I was wondering if you could tell me what you liked to read a couple years ago.” (I did all this while asking silent permission from his dad, of course, who seemed to find the whole thing amusing.

The boy went all shy on me, and said, the way kids do, “I dunno,” but his father coaxed him to remember, and suddenly they both said, “The Treehouse Books!” “They’re about Jack and Annie and a magic treehouse,” Dad elaborated. “It sends them on adventures. There’s like 40 of them. There’s no pictures, so the eight-year-old will be challenged [there are sketches], but they’re short so if someone’s reading them with them, they can finish one in a night or two.”

And so, we went to find the Treehouse books. They are a series of books by Mary Pope Osborne, and each one has a delightfully alliterative title. We bought the first five (they’re like $4 each) which cover dinosaurs, knights, mummies, pirates and ninjas.

Later, as we were looking at the Klutz activity books for stuff for our nieces who like crafty things, Dad, Son, and Other Son (age nine), approached us again. “Your nephews might like this one, too,” they said, handing me the first Hank the Cowdog book.

I thanked them, and left the section satisfied that we can round out their gift with chocolate. And yes, I’ll be sharing this story with their parents.

(Don’t forget to read my interview with Star Trek, and Buffy novelist Keith DeCandido which begins in the next post.)

Hey, fellow readers. I hereby ask for help. I have two nephews, ages 8 and 6, and I’ve got no idea what titles to get them for Christmas this year. I am the Book Aunt, so I have to get something cool and interesting, and readable, but while there are often age recommendations on the fly-leaves of books, there’s no such thing as children insurance that guarantees the child in question will like what you send.

So, suggestions please: What’s are good titles for bright, kinda geeky but leaning more toward engineering geekery than computer geekery, boys?

(Girl books? No problem).

If it helps, in previous years they’ve received Where the Wild Things Are and In the Night Kitchen, and stuff like that.

I’m more about classic titles that hold up than trendy stuff.

And I prefer to buy hardcovers.

If you think Tim Gunn should come and give you a fashion makeover, if you imitate Heidi Klum as she tells designers they’re out, if you would love to put Wendy Pepper (Season One) and Crazy Vincent (Season Three) in a boxing ring together, then you need to come play with us.

Where? At Electric Tangerine of course. I’ll be joining four other fashionistas in blogging Project Runway, and you’re invited to come dish some designer dirt.

So, grab your score cards and your snarkiest attitude, slip your feet into a killer pair of shoes, and strut down the runway with us.

All are welcome.

Even if you think tangerine really is the new pink.

After much searching online, I discovered that the closest thing I could find to the LED light I mentioned a few days ago is the one pictured here which, apparently, you can get for about $2 from Amazon.com.

I got mine for $4.98 at Half Price books, but if you’re doing an Amazon order anyway, tossing in one or two of these might not be a bad idea. (Ordering JUST a light would be a waste of shipping costs.)

This is the light that’s working for me, at the moment. As with any such thing, your mileage may vary.

I have to ask, though, what’s your ideal booklight? What do you use now?

I’ve seen those cute little LED clip-on lights at Borders and Barnes and Nobel and resisted buying them, but last weekend we were at Half Price Books and they had them for $5 so I bought one with the intent of testing it for reading in bed.

Now, you wouldn’t think light for reading in bed would be a problem if you saw our bed, because it has a lightbridge that casts illumination down on us from above the headboard, but the problem is that if you’re holding a book and reclining in the bed as well, a shadow is cast on the book. We do have an overhead light, but that’s too bright, especially if I’m awake and Fuzzy is asleep, which often happens when he’s working a more normal schedule than the vampire hours he’s been keeping since his return from San Jose, and while I often joke that our back neighbor’s outdoor lighting is bright enough to read by, the light is blocked if the wind blows the trees the wrong way, and gone if they remember to actually flip the light switch (which is a rare, but possible occurrence). Hence the LED.

I have to say it’s impressive. Light enough for a paperback. Completely bendy. Has a clip wide enough to stick on the screen of my laptop so I can see my control keys if I’m computing in the dark, and they claim the battery will last three years. Also, the light is bright without being harsh, which is great for working with text.

So, I spent about $5, and I’m tickled to death by the light, and I suspect many of my family will find similar gadgets in their Christmas stockings or Hanukkah stashes this year.

Writing about having to throw out a piece of luggage on my main blog the other day has me thinking about literary luggage. Yes, another list, but as I’m a little muzzy-headed I’m not committing to a number.

1. Jane in A Dangerous Dress has her luggage stolen (she thinks) early in the novel, and is mortified because her grandmother’s dress is in it.
2. Anne in Anne of Green Gables arrives on-scene with a very old carpetbag, with one handle that is partly broken. She manages to find romance even in that.
3. Speaking of carpetbags, we can’t forget The Importance of Being Earnest and a plot twist involving one, or rather, a valise, as well as a lost baby.
4. Hemingway’s Suitcase is a novel that doesn’t just feature a suitcase, but a stolen suitcase that contained everything Hemingway had written up to 1923, which is found by an author decades later in Los Angeles.
5. And finally, another carpetbag – one owned by a Miss Mary Poppins – that must have been somehow multidimensional, because it held simply everything.

A blog-buddy of mine posted an entry, recently, in which she stated that she’s not having a good relationship with books right now. I know what she means – I go through stages where I’m just not in the mood to read anything, and when I try I end up wanting to fling the book away from me and spend a week in a Hawaii bed and breakfast doing nothing but sunbathe, swim, and sleep. No books, no computer….well…no books.

Except of course that travel makes me want to read. I don’t know what it is. We went to France a few years ago at Christmas, and what I remember most (other than the gay potters who adopted me) are the long evenings in the 2nd floor lounge, curled up near the radiator, reading and sipping tea. I’d brought seven novels with me, intended for my mother to bring home with her. Instead, I re-read all of them while we were there, handing each to her as I finished.

One of those books was a favorite of mine, Bread Alone by Judith Ryan Hendricks. I reviewed it here a while ago, I think, but I can’t be bothered to look up the link at the moment. Reading about bread making in a funky house in France is the height of literary romanticism.

Although Hawaii would be warmer…