Robert Sheckley is an author of Science Fiction. I have a few books of his in my collection, of which I enjoyed The Alchemical Marriage of Alistair Crompton and The Journey of Joenes the most.

Why am I telling you this? Because at the moment, Sheckley is apparently ill in a hospital in the Ukraine, and needs to be flown home to the US for further treatment. His medical insurance doesn’t cover this, and so his family is trying to raise the money. If you would like to help, you can find out more on Neil Gaiman’s blog.

When I was 17, I bought the three hardcover books that comprise The Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien. At the time (1966), the second, revised, edition had just been published – so my set was the first printing of the second edition. I’ve had the books in my possession ever since. They have been read three times, and with their original dustjackets, they are in very good condition.

A few weeks ago, there was a TV programme on the BBC (20th Century Antiques) that featured the same edition of the books, and it would seem that they have some monetary value – the books on the programme were quoted as being worth £1,500. That piqued my interest, so I thought I would seek advice as to whether my books were in the same ballpark, or (knowing my luck) worth a couple of quid.

I happened to be in the south of The Netherlands for our friends’ wedding, and nearby was Bredevoort – a small picturesque village that has a large number of antiquarian bookshops. So I took myself off to the village, lugging my set of The Lord of the Rings.

I first visited the Pergamon bookshop, and explained I was seeking advice about the books. The bookseller examined them, and perhaps I was imagining it, but I swear his eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He said that indeed the books could be worth something, and went to a bookcase where he had a set of the first edition, eleventh impression (1965). These were on sale for €700. He thought that perhaps the first printing of the second edition would be worth less, but I recalled that on the BBC programme, the expert had said that because the second edition was revised, a first printing was still pretty valuable. Be that as it may, the bookseller advised that I should take them to the English Bookshop in the village, where Mr. Webb could give his advice. In any event, he advised me to be careful with the books.

So, off I trundled, and found the bookshop and its owner to whom I showed the books. He examined them carefully (my tension mounting), and then casually offered me €15 per book.

Er, excuse me? Now, I realise that a bookseller has to have a markup, but this does seem a trifle on the low side. I notice that there’s been an auction on eBay for a set of the books – a second printing of the second edition (so less interesting for collectors) that closed at the equivalent of about €300.

So I declined Mr. Webb’s kind offer and trundled off with my books again.

I’m in no hurry to sell these books, but I will continue to seek advice on their value. And they will remain unread – I have yet another edition of the books that I use when I return to re-read Tolkien’s masterwork.

The mind is an amazing thing. I spent much of last night, both awake and asleep, with that phrase – the [Widget], the [Wadget] and Boff – running through my head. By this morning I had recognised it as the title of a Science Fiction story. A quick Google, and I had established it as a short story by Theodore Sturgeon from his “The Joyous Invasions” collection.

Now why I should be thinking of that phrase, I have no idea. The last time I probably read that story was when I bought the Penguin paperback (complete with a front cover painted by Alan Aldridge, the fashionable illustrator of the time) way back in 1967.

So I’ve just got the book out of the library upstairs (yep, I still have the book) to re-read. Perhaps that will give me a clue about last night.