Me: Man … it’s kinda too bad I don’t have anything else to do today. I look really cute. One of those days.
Joy: Too bad it isn’t yet a cultural norm for guys to buy girls books at the bookshop … but maybe head over to (Acorn, was it?) just to be sure
So that’s what I did. Having finished my work and a run to the grocery, I went to Acorn Bookstore, which has been featured previously on this blog. I perused the history section, noting a biography of Richard III I’d kind of want, considered every available title on the C.S. Lewis shelves, decided against buying a Scott Fitzgerald novel, and wound my way back to the history section. After about 20 minutes of this, I was in agony, because I WANTED EVERYTHING.
Then I saw this book. On its own it didn’t interest me, but it appeared to be concealing something.
. . .
. . .
. . .
In case you are unaware / haven’t read my novel, this title would have been THE SINGLE MOST USEFUL SOURCE ANYWHERE BETWEEN TWO AND FIVE YEARS AGO, WHEN I WAS WRITING MY NOVEL THAT INVOLVES A NEWSPAPER IN ENGLAND IN 1793.
So after a few minutes of being outwardly dumbstruck and inwardly swearing like a sailor, I bought the damn thing. I also bought Till We Have Faces, which I’ve never read but I need to start because apparently at some point I’m going to want to start crying forever.
And I used money from my food budget to buy these books. Pretty sure that qualifies me to be the quirky protagonist in some indie rom-com.