Between producing supplemental book sections, needlessly updating editions, and incessantly lobbying teachers to assign particular textbooks, scholarly publishers have perfected the art of separating students from their money.

Of course, given the ever-increasing costs of tuition, it is pretty clear that universities seem to view students as little more than walking, talking ATMs. Under these circumstances, it's not really surprising that book companies would take the same approach.

Admittedly, textbooks have always been somewhat pricey. When I was a college student, there were some semesters in which I had to choose between books and food. In most cases, I would check my texts out from the library, but there were times when I had to resort to sitting in the stacks of the college bookstore, my notebook on one knee and a textbook on the other as I feverishly took notes and hoped that the employees wouldn't kick me out.

I used to be an English teacher at what Penthouse forum would call "a major mid-Atlantic university." One of the things about teaching English is that it's impossible to escape the high cost of books. Unlike PE teachers, art professors, or the guys who teach underwater basket weaving, English instructors have to assign texts, which means that our students end up having to lay out a lot of dough.

I fought against this by carefully choosing my books. Whenever I assigned a text, I would look at all the available editions and consider the benefits versus the costs of each one. I often used xeroxed copies of stories or placed reserve copies in the library to reduce my students' textbook burden, and prided myself on the relatively cheap cost of supplies for my classes.

One year, attempting to standardize its introductory classes, my department developed an in-house textbook. Initially, using the book was a voluntary choice, but over the years, the department textbook became required for every freshman English class. For a while, this wasn't too much of a problem; the textbook was pretty decent, and I can honestly say that it helped my students. In my final year, however, the department came out with a completely worthless edition of the damned thing. It cost $90, and I was required to assign it in my classes. In my last semester, I decided against using it, which earned me some stink-eye from a few colleagues, but little else. On the other hand, I had already announced my decision to leave teaching.