Everyone in my family gets books from me for their birthdays and Christmas. It used to be because I had a pretty big discount as a bookseller, and I also, as a bookseller, made very little money. But now I figure that they are sometimes the only books that members of my family read in the course of a year, even if they’re just trying to be polite.

My Dad’s always the toughest when it comes to books. He won’t read fiction (“Why would I want to read something that’s made up?”) and so I usually send him a picture book about baseball. This year, for Father’s Day, I went to Bailey/Coy and shipped a copy of Obama’s memoir, Dreams of my Father, to my dad. I did this because a few years ago he got cable and started watching Fox News and I’m, quite frankly, sick of hearing him talk about politics. I’ll tell him that if he wants to talk politics with me, he’ll have to read this book first. Plus, I figure my mom—who jumped on the Obama train a while back—will read it.

I don’t usually do this, but it sounds too neat to pass up—if you’re still looking for something for a gift for Father’s Day, Powell’s has a new subscription club. Every six weeks, they ship subscribers a couple new hardcover novels (primarily from independent presses) that the staff recommends. Also, they throw DVDs and CDs and/or chocolate in there, too, to keep things interesting.

Closer to home, Elliott Bay Book Company has something called Maiden Voyage, where subscribers get a different first-edition novel by a first-time novelist in the mail, six times a year.

If you’re lucky enough to have dad who reads fiction, maybe you should think about signing him up for one of these. If you have a dad who vomits Bill O’Reilly all over you, maybe you should think about Dreams of my Father.