Down the Rabbit Hole: My Nonsensical Book-Collecting Habits by Susana Sanchez-Gonzalez

I like to think of my collection as peering down a rabbit hole. It never starts with intention.

Usually, it begins when I spot a reference in a book that whispers, “look closer.” I follow it to another book, where perhaps a tiny comment in a footnote sparks my curiosity further. That might lead me onto something—or someone—else that also seems intriguing, and before I know it—plop!—I’ve tumbled headfirst into a rabbit hole of books, arms flailing, heart racing, desperate to know more.

At some point, curiosity turns into desire. That’s when I start hunting for editions I can actually afford. It’s never about rare or pristine copies. It’s about building a library for a future me—writer, researcher, daydreamer, Collector with a capital “C.” This library may not hold significance for anyone else, but for me, it is everything—a map of curiosity, delight, and wandering imagination, each book a marker on roads I’ve explored on my own, following one thread to the next, with no agenda and no academic frameworks. Just the sheer delight of learning (and looking, and owning) for its own sake.

To be honest, I also collect because collecting is a lot of fun—even if I still have to write it in lowercase “c.” Most of my books are charity finds, ex-library copies: discarded, worn, and cheap for good reason, those that big-fish buyers wouldn’t even look at twice.

Occasionally, there’s an exception, like my antiquarian copy of Edward Lear’s Nonsense Book, which cost an eye-watering £90 and which I bought as a gift to myself after receiving a scholarship to study children’s literature at the IES Rare Book School in London. But that’s the exception. Each book, even a humble find, reminds me: I know this author, that illustrator, that odd little title. And who knows? Perhaps one day I’ll be able to afford “the real thing,” whatever that means.

What I Collect

Mostly, I’m drawn to illustrated children’s books published from the late nineteenth century up to the early 1980s. What unites them is a particular type of illustration—wacky, whimsical, and never bound by photographic realism. I love nonsense and surreal imagery, but always with a playful, joyful spirit. Nothing too dark or morbid. I want to see the child within the work: mischievous, joyful, poking her tongue out at the world.

I like Walter Crane and Randolph Caldecott, enjoy Edmund Dulac, Beatrix Potter, and Arthur Rackham, and I absolutely love Ernest Shepard. At times, I’m drawn to the beautiful, playful line of Harry Clarke and Aubrey Beardsley—but just as often, I recoil at their most extreme, macabre illustrations. Only one thing I know for sure: I cannot stand the cheesy world of Kate Greenaway or Alison Uttley.

Some of my favourite finds are early children’s books with delightfully bizarre and provocative titles, such as Nonsense for Somebody, Anybody, or Everybody (A. Nobody, 1895; actually Gordon Browne), Hilaire Belloc’s The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts (1896), Gelett Burgess’s The Goops and How to Be Them (1900), and all of Edward Lear’s nonsense series. I’m also captivated by books that are peculiar as objects themselves, like Peter Newell’s The Hole Book, The Slant Book, and The Rocket Book. To think that these sophisticated picture books were published in the early 1900s simply blows my mind.

Other favourites include classics in the genre of wackiness, such as William Heath Robinson’s chaotic contraptions and characters, or the 1980s editions of Dr. Seuss and Richard Scarry. I’ve also been enjoying the work of more recent authors like Mitsumasa Anno, Bruno Munari, and Tomie DePaola. Bruno Munari is perhaps better known for his work as a graphic designer, and indeed, I often choose books for their designs and cover illustrations rather than content—even if they’re a little tacky (or just plain horrible), like Fontana’s editions of Agatha Christie. That’s why, when I found that there existed a picture book designed by Saul Bass (Henry’s Walk to Paris), I simply had to have a copy. The same goes for Miroslav Sasek’s This is New York, This is London series.

I also collect picture books set in 1970s New York. I’m drawn to their aesthetic, typography, and atmosphere, even though I was born in 1976 and only visited the city briefly years ago. Perhaps that explains my affection for Shel Silverstein, Ezra Jack Keats, or the Muppet Show annuals. I like the early Muppets. Maurice Sendak is also another favourite from this decade—not only his classics but also his illustrations for ETA Hoffman’s Nutcracker. How could one not have it? Sometimes the aesthetic calls louder than the story itself, and I happily follow.

The Ones That Got Away

Not every collection attempt succeeds. My half-hearted effort to gather different illustrated versions of The Princess and the Pea “just because” is ongoing. And the idea of buying Around the World in 80 Days in every country I visit—each in its local language—sounds lovely in theory, but less so when faced with airline baggage limits.

A Shelf of Joy

So there it is: a glimpse of my shelves and my happily nonsensical collecting habits. I know my books aren’t worth much, but I simply need them around me. Every one of them was found while tumbling down an endless rabbit hole of curiosity and wonder. And really, what book collector could ever resist the thrill of such a jump?

Susana Sanchez-Gonzalez

Interview With Fine Books & Collections: Bright Young Booksellers

How did you get started in rare books?
My father is a bookseller, so for as long as I can remember, he’s been taking me along to fairs and getting me to work in the shop. I showed a little interest growing up but always focused on things I already had an affinity for, music and counterculture being the main two. I remember really wanting my own copy of Sniffin’ Glue, and all the really cool punk posters we had. I desperately wanted to keep them.

However, it took me moving away to Manchester, studying music at university, and then being a full-time bartender before I realised, wait, I love doing this, why don’t I have a go at dealing in books full time?

When did you open Manchester Rare Books, and what do you specialise in?
It was two years ago this month that I decided to take the plunge. At dinner at the Harrogate Book Fair, I mentioned to a friend—Anthony Smithson from Keel Row Books—that I wanted to give it a go. He then recommended the YABS seminar, and from that point on, I decided I wanted to pursue it.

As for specialisation, one joke my old man always said was he specializes in ‘saleable books’ which I do have to agree with, I like volume and variety. That being said I seem to be drawn to counterculture materials—I like the weird side of things. But I'm actively trying to learn about everything I can. While I get the most enjoyment out of old drug zines and left-wing political pamphlets, I’m of the mindset that I want to learn about everything. It's more exciting that way.

What do you love about the book trade?
There’s really nothing better than getting a great book at a good price, digging through mountains of rubbish and then finding something brilliant, or spotting something at a fair before anyone else and knowing you’re going to make money off it. There’s a dopamine hit there that’s just fantastic.

Beyond that, the fantastic people in the trade make it so much better. I’ve made a large number of friends through this job, and fairs, even if you do poorly buying or selling, can still be a good time, hanging out with friends and chatting nonsense.

Also, handling cool items every day. I don’t know what I’m going to be dealing with from one day to the next, and getting to work with the coolest stuff in the world is fantastic.

Describe a typical day for you:
Each day is different, which I love. Usually, it’s checking emails and alerts for things at auction and online. Then, I’ll try to do a house call. If not, I’ll head out scouting. I usually have a few bits of cataloguing and general business/life admin to do. I spend a lot of time on the road doing fairs and viewing auctions. If I have a collection in that I want to do a list on, I’ll usually hole up for a few days and do nothing else until it's done. I like that every day is different—you never know what you’re going to find.

Favourite rare book (or ephemera) that you’ve handled?
I had a seriously cool collection of early transgender materials, including six issues of Female Mimics. It had some incredibly interesting and important items in it. I never thought I would be one to do lists, but I started with that and really enjoyed it. I have some more in development now. I’m also still a sucker for Modern Firsts. I’ve had signed J.G. Ballards that I just love, and the usual assortment of Agatha Christies and Ian Flemings always gives me a kick.

What do you personally collect?
I try not to get attached to things I buy for work. I’m sure I’m not the only one in the trade who tries, and fails, to do this. But I’ve been rather good at it so far. I’ve always collected records, and I still continue to do that.

What do you like to do outside of work?
I’ve been told by a few people that I need to give myself more time off work but I think I’d rather be at a fair or out buying than doing most other things. Drinks with friends, the gym, and movies would be my rather boring answer.

Thoughts on the present state and/or future of the rare book trade?
More young faces are popping up, and it’s great. I’m in a few group chats with younger members of the trade, and it’s as insightful and helpful as it is fun. I think moves to make the trade more diverse are wonderful, and the increasing focus on social issues and inclusion is great to see. It brings in new perspectives, new collectors, and helps modernise the trade in a meaningful way. There’s always going to be people who want to buy books. I think YABS and CABS are great. I’ve attended both, and they helped me massively. Most of the “established trade” are incredibly supportive of younger dealers.

Any upcoming fairs or catalogues?
I regularly do a few PBFA fairs a month. I seem to do quite a large number of fairs, so there’s a good chance you’ll find me somewhere! As for lists, I’m working on a few. One on books relating to alcohol and literature I’m calling Modern Thirst Editions which, of course, started as a joke and is now becoming real. I still plan to open up a shop in Manchester sooner rather than later but we’ll see about that!

Two Years in The Rare Book Trade

Two Years in the Rare Book Trade

The Harrogate PBFA Book Fair was a few weeks ago, which I exhibited at. It featured a change in venue to the Old Swan Hotel—particularly interesting as this hotel is where the great Agatha Christie disappeared to in 1926 for 11 days, sparking a nationwide search to find her. She was eventually found at the hotel under the name Mrs. Teresa Neele from Cape Town. Later examined by doctors, it was stated that she had amnesia.

This fair, two years ago, is also where I finally decided to take the plunge and set up my own rare bookshop. I've probably mentioned it before, but it was an admittedly boozy dinner that either sealed my fate or gave me the courage to strike out on my own, depending on how you look at it.

Since then, my first two years have been a whirlwind.

My friends in the trade have been some of the most wonderful and supportive people. The lovely Mark and Jacqueline of Cheltenham Rare Books have been incredibly helpful, both in knowledge and moral support. I quite regularly call Mark with questions about books, and his time and expertise are always appreciated. Jacqueline always lets me run website and marketing ideas past her.

I attended YABS a year and a half ago, making some friends for life. My friend Stephanie, the wonderful auctioneer who, despite initially thinking I was just a loud, annoying boy (she was right, I guess), has grown to be one of my closest friends, and I make sure to visit her whenever possible. Josh from Green Ink Booksellers in Hay-on-Wye, whom I knew beforehand from fairs, has become a close friend. We regularly spend book fairs together trying to make each other laugh, with varying degrees of success. And the ever-wonderful Emma from Adrian Harrington has been incredibly helpful in my first two years.

Then, somehow, I ended up receiving the ILAB scholarship for CABS. Flying out to America for books wasn’t on my 2024 bucket list, but I made it out there. I talked extensively about the faculty in my post about it here. But meeting the two American boys, Wyatt McLean and Sam Wood, was an absolute pleasure. Arguably, we had too much fun at CABS. But since then, we've had a lively group chat where we talk about books, ask questions, and wind each other up—ranging from discussions about Stephen King and Cormac McCarthy to sharing the ‘weirdest’ items we have in stock. Meeting them both was a pleasure, and it's great to have friends across the pond.

I joined the PBFA and exhibited at fairs throughout the year, including the big York September fair.

I've learned more and more about authors I love, such as Agatha Christie, Fleming, and Tolkien, dealing in many first editions.
I've increased my knowledge of antiquarian books, travel, and polar exploration.
I produced my first catalogue of transgender materials I picked up over the two years.

I drove far too many miles, drank probably too much beer, but had a great time doing it all.

And, of course, a big thanks to my old man, Stephen Dick of Holybourne Rare Books, who has had to put up with some stupid questions, and only sometimes gave me stupid answers, and guided me on my way. Cheers, Dad.

And a huge thanks to Tobi Meuwissen, for helping get this website looking this good!

Going forward, I still want to open a bookshop in Manchester and continue dealing in Modern First Editions and more.

Finding the Value of Old and Rare Books

A Beginner’s Guide to Rare Books

The world of rare books can seem daunting and confusing, with so many terms thrown around and prices seemingly fluctuating based on minor differences between copies. In this article, I’ll cover a few brief points about what makes books valuable and what to look out for.

Condition
Few things are more important than the condition of a book, which is why booksellers spend hours cataloging and ensuring they accurately describe each book. For modern first editions, it’s all about the dust jackets. The difference in value between an Agatha Christie or Ian Fleming title with or without a dust jacket can be huge. Generally, the earlier the title, the less likely it is to have a pristine dust jacket—or one at all. While wear and tear over time is a major factor, two other interesting points contribute to this. Firstly, dust jackets were originally intended to protect the book’s boards, and many owners simply discarded them upon bringing the book home. Secondly, the materials used for dust jackets—especially around WWII—were weak and prone to tearing, making intact dust jackets particularly rare. One of my favorite books, George Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London, is considered a “white whale” among book dealers if found in its original dust jacket.

Edition
As a rule of thumb, first editions are the most sought-after books. A first edition Casino Royale, for example, is worth thousands more than a later printing. However, later editions can still hold value and are often sought after by collectors just starting out or those looking to fill out their collections. Reprints, like Book Club Editions, are typically less valuable, but if you enjoy them, don’t hesitate to add them to your collection!

Some terms used in the trade may also appear, such as “first edition thus,” which indicates a title’s first appearance in a specific format, such as a paperback release or illustrated edition. These variants can appeal to collectors who appreciate unique editions, even if they’re not the earliest printings.

Scarcity/Rarity
In the world of rare books, less is more—the fewer copies there are, the higher the price they can command. Limited editions, small print runs, and signed copies usually come with higher price tags. A famous example is J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, which had a print run of just 500 hardback copies; these copies can now reach tens of thousands of pounds. By contrast, later books in the series had print runs in the millions and are now often found on bargain shelves.

Pop Culture and Demand
Popularity greatly influences a book’s value. High-demand authors like Agatha Christie, John le Carré, and Ian Fleming are prized by collectors, and their books fetch high prices as a result. However, demand is dynamic; an author may lose appeal if trends shift or if they’re embroiled in controversy. Conversely, demand can spike when a book is adapted into a popular movie or if there’s an anniversary or notable event surrounding the author or title.

Provenance
An often-overlooked factor, provenance refers to the history of a book’s ownership. If a book was once owned by a notable person or has an interesting story behind it, this history can increase its value. In some cases, even marginalia—notes written in the book’s margins by previous owners—can add to its appeal, especially if the notes were made by someone notable or offer unique insights.

Additional Tips for New Collectors

• Start with what you love—whether it’s a favorite author, genre, or era. Collecting should be enjoyable, with investment potential as a secondary consideration.

• Familiarize yourself with common book terms, such as “foxing” (small brown spots on pages due to age) and “edge-worn” (wear along the cover edges).

• Join online communities or visit local rare bookstores to learn and see books in person. Engaging with other collectors and sellers is a great way to deepen your knowledge and appreciation for rare books.

Collecting rare books is as much about passion as it is about investment, and the journey of discovery is often the most fulfilling part. If you have questions or books to sell, please reach out—we’d be happy to help answer any questions you may have!

CABS Report: How I Stopped Worrying And Learned to Love Collation.

I had no clue what to really expect from CABS. I had done the British counterpart, YABS, a year before and found it exciting and fulfilling, but I looked at the American trade with great interest—for how it works and the cool things they deal in. I also love meeting new book people, hearing their stories, and learning from them.

In short, it was brilliant—but I think I need to write a bit more than just that. If you're on the fence, go to CABS!

The most notable change for me, in how I view the trade now, came very early on when Garrett Scott delivered his research methods lecture. He explained how he was doing research on a piece of ephemera and started connecting dots, finding links that made the item more intriguing and valuable. It really stuck with me as the right approach: instead of just giving it a quick glance and listing it online, actually doing the work is worth it. It’s changed how I view cataloging—from my least favorite thing to, "Oh brilliant, I get to work some stuff out."

Maria Lin, my assigned faculty member, also went through cataloging antiquarian books with us. I told her at the start, "Cataloging isn't my thing." Cut to three days into CABS, and I'm excitedly cataloging a French cookery book and enjoying it.

While the research and "book" parts were fantastic, the practical side didn’t disappoint either. Rebecca Romney's talk on the economics of the trade was exceptional in getting down to the simple fact: it's hard to make money, and here’s what you have to do.

Amir Naghib's talks on modern firsts were brilliant, as was his presentation on fakes and forgeries. I now have his voice in my head saying, "Don’t buy bad books," which was repeated many times. It’s already saved me money while scouting.

Alex Akin's talk on his work was brilliant and pushed me further toward wanting to deal in the weird and wonderful.

The talks on selling to institutions were fantastic as well. During the talk, I actually just googled the universities near me and realized it’s a viable path for me.

I especially appreciated how progressive and inclusive CABS is, with many discussions about making the trade more welcoming for all, which is just brilliant.

From all the conversations I had with faculty, to the last night’s drinks (which were really very funny), to all the friends I’ve made—who I still keep in touch with, ask for advice, and have a laugh with—I was inspired and happy. I gained so much from CABS.

I want to thank all of the faculty—you were all fantastic and made it a week to remember. And thank you to ILAB for the opportunity. Since coming back from CABS, I have been even more inspired and determined to make it in this trade than I was before.