I’m not an author either, but like Babelbabe I like the idea of picking five books off my shelf. At first I thought “how will I pick randomly?” and then I realized “because I had a glass of wine more than four hours after my last meal, silly.” Ahem. Because that’s true. It was a very mediocre white (not even a hint of barnyard!) that, if I recall correctly, Kate and I opened over a week ago. I wasn’t feeling picky. Also, I’m alone in the apartment for over a week. This is why I don’t live alone. I’d be uncovered after a period of several months, rolling in a heap of books and muttering something about raw milk.
I picked five books, by closing my eyes and picking one off each shelf of fiction.
1. The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster, Richard Brautigan. Purchased at Powells after Bronwen emailed me many of the poems in college, for $3.50. “I think I’ll get up/ and dance around the room./ Here I go!”
2. The Voyage Out, Virginia Woolf. Purchased on Charing Cross Road for 2.50 (that’s pounds). With, I might add, Bronwen. I think I saved it to read in Italy, at a time when books in English were a precious commodity.
3. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen. Received from a Stonecutter. Haven’t read yet. Even Kate has read it. Shame.
4. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan. I think I bought it at Goodwill. I was going to say I read it for sophomore English, but that was The Kitchen God’s Wife, which I actually prefer, especially when I need a good tearjerker. The movie of JLC? Bores me to tears.
5. Stuart Little, EB White. Bought it at Powells, I think. “He somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.”
Good variety, yes?
In, um, other news – you know how I LOVE the mail? Well, tonight I had an odd feeling as I approached my mailbox. I pulled it all out, fumbled with the key, turned on a light, sorted Kate’s stuff into a stack, and there it was. The return address I’ve been waiting for. But – a moment of panic. The envelope was thin. Thin means rejection, yes? Fat means “we love you! Come to our university and fulfill your destiny! Here are several brochures!” I practically rip open the envelope.
You know when you’re reading something that you know is important? And you try to read as quickly as possible because oh my God the suspense? But you don’t want to miss important details? Mistake “accepted” for “rejected” or some such. Yeah, that’s how I felt.
In the words of Kate’s wedding invite reply card (although not the actual wording of the letter), I was “delightfully accepted” into the library science program at the university of my choice. (IE, the only university I applied to, albeit twice.) Hence the wine on a relatively empty stomach. It all makes sense now, doesn’t it?