When will I learn that my constant quest for new readers generally leads to, you know, new readers?
And that Moo cards are sneaky and evil.
Last time I went back to the Homestead I cleared my bookshelves of the books I wanted with me in Southampton. Among the many Georgette Heyer’s, Tom Sharpe’s, Wyndham’s and Asimov’s were, of course, my beloved Iain Banks. I set myself down to read The Crow Road once more and was struck, as ever, by the opening line.
“It was the day my grandmother exploded”.
I knew then and there that this book had to be shared and that P would probably enjoy it. Even more to the point I knew I’d enjoy discussing it afterwards – that is half the fun of sharing books you’ve loved, after all.
Without thinking I thrust a moo card into the book as a bookmark (no corner-turning in the Meadow Towers Household, thank you very much!), bundled it into the box with the other books, and forgot about it till a week later as I was getting ready for college. The book went into my bag and I didn’t realise the moo card was still in there till P opens the book and goes “oooh, what’s this…”
Hopes that he might not be the inquisitive type were dashed this evening when he announced “your website is very cool”.
From a brief discussion it turns out the last thing he read before going to the South of France for a holiday (lucky bugger) was me enumerating how I’m not cute. As a parting shot this evening he announced that he was going to read more of the website…
Please answer me this question – how am I meant to look him in the eye next Wednesday?
More and more I am starting to doubt the wisdom of this whole “blogging my life” malarkey. Yes I’m an adorable scatterbrain who just needs to be loved, but do I really need my class mates, work colleagues and family reading this? Then again, it’s a bit late to stop now 😀
As an aside, P needs a better blog-name. The Man Who Called Me Feisty is a bit unwieldy for day-to-day use.