I was sitting at the public desk this afternoon, when one of our regular patrons—and my secret favorite—came up, said, “I hear you’re looking for a copy of this,” and tossed a trade-sized paperback at me. “I want it back when you’re done.”
I caught it gingerly—this patron has a sense of humor that recommends caution—and examined it:
“Hey, thanks!” I said. “How did you know?”
“You said you couldn’t find it in that review you wrote about her stories last week.”
“You read my blog?” I asked, thinking nervously of the F-Bomb thing last Sunday.
“Only when you write interesting stuff.”
Fair enough. “How’d you find it?”
“That Top Suspense review you did a while back. You’ve been slacking on the reviews, lately.”
“I haven’t had time.”
“Make time. But only for books I’ll like.”
“Maybe I’ll do this one,” I said, lifting Killer Instinct.
“Why? I’ve already read it.”
“There could be one or two other people who haven’t.”
“Other people read your blog?”
“At least six,” I said, fudging a little*. “Not including you.”
“Why don’t you ever comment?”
“You really want me to?”
“Never mind. Can I blog about this conversation?”
“Sure. I probably won’t read it, since I know what happens.”
“That’s okay. Please don’t comment if you do.”
“No promises. There a computer free?”
“Number five,” I said, pointing.
I was left with the book and the sudden urge to read over every one of my library-based posts to make sure they won’t bite me in the rump and set the commenting around here to moderate all.
But I read the first few chapters of Killer Instinct instead.
Thanks, Mrs. P.
*Never mind which way.
13 thoughts on “You read me! You really read me! : A mixed blessing in one act”
This made me laugh out loud! I can just imagine you frantically scrolling through your archives checking you’ve never said anything you ‘shouldn’t’ 🙂
Hello Mrs P 🙂
I did check one or two when I got home, but what’s done is done and I’ve been pretty good, all told. I think. Um . . .
Of course she reads you! Way more (smart) people than you ever know likely do! Just smile and carry on, my friend. We’ll all be here for you…
Isn’t it lovely to think so? 🙂
And it’s just odd when worlds collide . . .
(and thanks, Sherry!)
First, wonderful dialogue from a writing perspective. Second, I chuckled through the whole thing. That woman is marvelous.
Now that the business is out of the way, oh my goodness, this scares the bejeezus out of me. Believe or not, I actually don’t post the dodgier stuff, but the idea of someone outside of “the circle of trust” (said in DeNiro’s voice), terrifies me. I’ve thought about going back and deleting some posts and then I think I wouldn’t have met all of you if I was more guarded…such a tough call.
In your case though, I think your blog is a wonderful balance of intelligence, humor (so much humor), and personal. You walk that fine line like a rock star (although really, that makes no sense because rock stars aren’t known for their restraint…but I digress, imagine that.), and keep it all entertaining but not anything that will offend if that makes sense.
Suffice to say, no worries, and keep on, keeping on, my friend.
Mrs. P. is my secret (or not so much now, I guess) favorite for a reason.
I sometime think of the Internet as a big, scary ocean with unknown beings swimming underneath my little raft, . . . Some are sea snakes or hagfish, but some are dolphins or penguins or divers who come up for a visit. Or really cool squid. I’ll stop now. 🙂
And wow—thanks for the reassurance, Lyra. I’m glad you haven’t deleted any of your posts—they always resonate with me.
Of course we read you Sal, oops I mean Sarah.
I agree with Lyra, wonderful dialogue and I too laughed.
Mrs.P sounds like a character (if you’re reading this Mrs P, I mean that as a compliment)
Maybe it’s because it’s 6am and there’s no diet Pepsi left in the house, but all I can think of is Blueberries for Sal, which I don’t think is right . . . ?
No, but OMG Blueberries for Sal – I LOVED that book.
Sally Fields at the Oscars “You like me, you really like me” (okay really dating myself there)
I can’t believe I missed that—I even knew who I was quoting . . .
Holy Cow. Sorry, Downith. My caffeine dependence is now officially a problem.
This is awesome. I can just imagine your face when she plopped that book down beside you.
She’s tossed books at me before . . . one of them was Everybody Poops. It was for Sunny (I think), but a surprise, nevertheless.
Laughing my head off at “(I think)”