Yesterday evening, after the kids were in bed, I snuck (no, I will not get into the debate as to whether or not this is a real word! 🙂 out and went to the bookstore!
Whenever I enter a bookstore, I feel like a kid in a candy store! There can be nothing better to a writer. My husband has long ago learned to leave these excursions to me, as they can be hours long. Opening the door and seeing two floors of books, that new book smell … I become lost.
I always begin at the tables in the center. Hot New Fiction. Recommended Reads. Heather’s Picks. Kiddie Picks. I’ll move to the back, and see what’s new for kids, and then pass by the outdoor living, and cuisine books – but these are pretenses. I want the fiction section. Here, walls of books overwhelm me. I stare at them, wondering, where do I begin? Inevitably, a salesperson wanders over to me, and we get to talking. “I am supposed to be recommending you, not the other way around,” I was told last night.
Nine o’clock rolls around, too quickly, and they announce that the store is closing. I have a few minutes.
The sale is buy 3, get a 4th free.
I look at the pile in my arms. Do I buy 8? No, that is too indulgent.
I stand in line, everyone indiscreetly peering at each others treasures, making mental notes, and trying to avoid all the book gadgets that are laying in wait.
Finally, it is just me and my books.
A bag full of mixed candy. Some expected, others not.
The Witch of Portobello, by Paulo Coelho
Santa Olivia, by Jacqueline Carey
The Seamtress, by Frances De Pontes Peebles
The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet, by Reif Larsen