Ozma of Oz, 1907 ed. facsimile, ~1974, L. Frank Baum
Later semi-adapted into the Return to Oz film, which I remember quite liking as a kid, though I gather that makes me a horrible person according to some Oz fans.

The Land of Oz, 1904 edition facsimile, ~1974, L. Frank Baum
This is from a set of paperback reproductions of the original Oz books that Rand McNally put out in the 70s. The reproduction quality is very good; better, I would say, than a lot of contemporary facsimile editions of older materials. The black line artwork is crisp and as detailed as illustration in the original editions were.
Here’s the back-cover:

Bard, 1981, fourth ed., Keith Taylor
I would have bet money that the fantasy reader fascination with Celtic music didn’t hit marketable levels until the 90s.

“Things”, 1967, Ivan T. Sanderson
“What’s that book about?”
“You know…stuff.”

Actually, these are some of the chapter titles:

• Globsters
• Whatchamacallits
• The Maricoxi
• The Wudewasa
• UFO Nests
• Ohio Overfly
• Flying Rocks

You know you’re in for some serious discussion of hard science when you’ve got chapters about flying rocks.

Gods From Outer Space, 1972 ed., Erch Von Daniken
Twenty cents sounds about right for scholarly work of this nature.
I think my favorite part of the book is the discussion of how women were artificially created by aliens.

Coma, 1977, Robin Cook
Another 70s paperback cover with rather frank nudity.
It struck me the other day that a tremendous number of thrillers of the era are concerned with trying to convince you that doing completely innocuous things, such as going to the beach, an amusement park, a hospital, will end with you being horribly murdered and that is why you shouldn’t do such things. It’s that slightly moralistic edge that seems to differentiate them from contemporary entries in the genre.

Superman: Miracle Monday, 1981, Elliot S. Maggin

I think I prefer my Superman heroic and fighting evil instead of wallowing in self-important angst.

The Jewels of Elvish, 1989, Nancy V. Berberick
If only the word “unicorn” had been worked in there somewhere, this would be the platonic ideal of a fantasy novel title.

Killing Trade, 2008, Don Pendleton
The thing I find most interesting about the super-macho he-man military adventure genre, apart from the fact that it actually still exists, is that they always seem to have these very hot men on the covers.
Latent homoeroticism or masterful exploitation of idealized self-image amongst the readership: you decide.

Another Day, Another Dungeon, 1990, Greg Costikyan
There was a time when the shelves of the “Fantasy/Science Fiction” sections in Waldenbooks and B. Dalton’s all across the country were stuffed to the brim with the “funny” fantasy novels. Robert Aspirin, Piers Anthony, Craig Shaw Gardner, John DeChancie, Terry Pratchett, Greg Costikyan and a host of others made, if not great money, at least enough money to keep writing by pandering to the oh so sophisticated comedic tastes of sci-fi and fantasy readers.
I think about the “funny” fantasy novel genre a lot when I go into a bookstore these days and see ten million books about psychic vampire detectives who are also half-fae wizards on the shelves.