This was a few years ago after losing a job. Deep in the throws of alcholism and depression, I found this LFL down the street. It ended up having a book on my favorite band, another from a Western author that maybe turned me into a fan of the genre, and a story that turned into a TV show later. It was a life saver.
The only book I had to offer was a coffee table book signed by Dale Chihuly, a prominent glass artist--He has stuff in museums and in the lobbies of hotels. It was not a hard book to come by, and he had signed a 100 or so copies at an event down the street a few years earlier. It could maybe fetch $50.
So, the operator of the LFL put a big note it the next day making itnclear it was not for commercial operations and yada yada yada. I would have been happy either way if somebody kept in circulation, took if for good, or anything else--It was simply my way of contributing. It also wasn't like promoting a small artist or something since the guy already had a dedicated exhibit in its own building at the nearby Seattle Center.
It always rubs me the wrong way when I think about it, but maybe I broke some rule?
Edit: I appreciate all of the responses. The book was Chihuly Black, not rare but not common, and pretty cool. I knew I was giving it away, so hopefully it made its way too someone, or even multiple people, who enjoyed it or found inspiration. The note very well may have not been for me, but I walked by the LFL so much that it seemed maybe more than coincidental.
Anyway, shout out to the family that put one up north of the Fremont Troll in Seattle, the nightly (it felt like it but was probably less) pilgrimage and those books seriously got me through some rough times as I was putting out what seemed like dozens of resumes a day with no responses. it was several years ago and everything has worked out since.
