Some more books like Botollinger, only not at all like that. William was almost amused into a smile. "Less pretentious, more factually accurate?" he inquired innocently, gesturing for Nate to lead the way out of the aisle so that William could maneuver them into the shelves stuffed with weighty tomes on magical origins and ideologies. There was an easy way to do this, and a hard way. William started with the easy way.
"I'll let you in on a secret," William admitted, pulling three slim volumes out from where they were squeezed between their heftier shelf-mates and passing them to Nate. "When it comes to anything philosophical, I always begin by reading the shortest selections available. For two reasons." He held up a finger, tugging firmly on a thin-spined paperback trapped between bookending compendiums of backbreaking proportions. "First, at least if they're a waste of time, they're not a waste of much time. Second..." He smiled fleetingly at Nate before glancing away again. "Nine times out of ten, the shorter ones were written by brilliant minds who discovered they had something to say on a philosophical subject and jotted it down before they went back to developing entirely new Transfiguratory disciplines or redefining the nature of basic charm-work. Their authors are people who actually have intelligent things to say. A far cry from our friend Botollinger."
He scanned the shelf, pulled one more book - thicker but much shorter, which ought to even out in terms of actual content - and presented his findings to Nate for perusal. "From there, I can show you another trick, which might come in handy if you find something pertinent to your search."