The mustiness of a good used book—unappealing to some—is always comforting for me, especially on less-than-sunny Claremont days. In our college environment chock-full of students with their noses pressed to the inside of impersonal textbooks, a good used book goes a long way in reminding one of the true pleasures of academia or the simple warmth of home.

On a recent weekend, I decided to seek out that evocative smell—first by visiting Scripps College’s Denison Library, and then Thoreau’s Bookshop in the village. Denison Library holds a used book sale every semester, but Thoreau’s Bookshop has an extensive inventory of used books all year round.

I thought I would prime myself at Denison first to give myself a taste of what the colleges have to offer in used books before visiting a real store. Denison’ book sale offers out-of-circulation books which the library no longer needs due to duplicate copies in Honnold Mudd Library or the recent closure of a wing in Denison. The used book sale this semester had some great selections of poetry, classics, and even ancient works by Scripps professors in the Humanities department. It was here, on a somewhat chilly morning, that I delighted in discovering the scribbles of notes left in between pages as I sifted through the tables of books needing good homes.

It’s funny how superficial one becomes when looking for used books, judging them by outward vintage appearance. Many in the Denison sale could give a dorm room that rustic, Anthropologie-esque look. But the best part was that at this sale (and all those in semesters to come) the books sell for cheap: one dollar for a paperback, two dollars for hardcover.

Denison’s sale is a hard deal to beat, but a visit to the Claremont Village proved to be just as satisfying. Thoreau’s Bookshop, tucked away in the Packing House just off First Street, has all the quirks and charm of any used books store with the elegance and sophistication of a full-priced Barnes & Noble. At Thoreau’s, sitting proud upon creaking hardwood floors, are tall Harry Potter-style bookshelves that offer a world of reading material. Books are divided into non-fiction and fiction, clearly labeled with sections on biography, history, cooking, classics, mysteries, and more. The prices are still unbeatable—two dollars for a paperback, and four for a hardcover. Plus, free coffee is plentiful and chairs with comfy pillows practically beg to be curled up in.

The best part is that it’s a non-profit. A friendly, talkative older man named Bill was working when I stopped by, eager to tell the history of the place. The shop uses its profit to buy postage for a program that sends books to prisoners; in the shop is a large basket full of prisoners’ letters requesting the types of books they would like to receive. Regular volunteers, many from local high schools, come to help package the books for the prisoners.

Here on campus, “reading” has begun to mean something grueling: an assignment that must be completed with little enjoyment. So reclaim the word: find a spine on the shelf that grabs your eye, and sit down to read just for the pleasure of reading itself. In our hectic lives, a moment of peace can make all the difference.