It snowed again most of the day. I drove in the afternoon to a bookstore that specializes in science-fiction literature, and it was nice, but not very well-stocked. I looked for works by Philip K. Dick, but they didn’t have any. Nor any by Arthur C. Clarke, or Samuel Delany, or Ray Bradbury, or Isaac Asimov. They did have a few by Octavia Butler and Margaret Atwood. The genre they appeared to carry most was what is referred to now as ‘Fantasy’. Which I do not mean to look down on, but which generally I don’t think is very good, or anyway very serious. The only exception I can think of are the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, though perhaps there are others that I’m forgetting, or am unaware of.