lot of people on the train know I’m a reader (I’ve always got a book in my lap (and my Brompton folding bike under my legs)). And everyone on the bus (between work and train station) know I am as well (because I’m always talking about books and listening to others about their recommendations). It’s just who I am. If life was an old black & white World War Two movie, I’d be the guy called “Professor”.
I did loan one nice lady on the bus my copy of A Man Called Ove. To my total surprise, she didn’t care for it and quit it after three chapters. And she was very apologetic; sweetly so. So the other day I met her outside at the stop, she pulled out a book she’d Amazoned for me, a book her mother liked and she liked too. I don’t want to say what it is (because it’s a mystery and I don’t want to troll for spoilers). But it’s got a theological bend to it that looks interesting.
Outside of the fact that I’d never likely pick this up if not for her, it’s a very nice gesture, this sharing. She was delighted that I hadn’t read it (hopped up and down, she actually did). So, yes, now I have a novel burning to be read, something that I want to read and share. I’m hoping for another The Mirror. Who knows? Either way, I’ll report back.
First, I need to knock off Raising Steam.