With a heavy heart I dragged my feet, which is hard to do whilst also pushing a pushchair, towards ASDA, the local supermarket. Inevitably the usual torturous shopping trip loomed. The routine is usually something like this; we have a list, then wander aimlessly around the store, before settling on said original items.
This time though a plan was forming in my devious mind. It involved volunteering to take Amelia to the books, so she wasn’t bored and joining up somewhere in store later, which actually in reality meant hiding in a cowardly fashion near the books until the shopping was completed.
The books on offer were not exactly thrilling. As you would expect there were an array of bestsellers, you know the type, a book with Clive Cussler’s name emblazoned on it when the other co-author (in much smaller print) wrote most of it, yet another book about someone doing a job in Auschwitz, and some grim true crime, etc. Admittedly I once saw a copy of To Kill a mockingbird hanging around on the bottom shelf so since then I have been keeping a keen eye out.
Time passed slowly and the selection of books didn’t yield much – especially where my enthusiasm was involved – just a couple of football books, and the odd Stephen King, which is always worth a read but after reading a lot of him this year, I was prepared to save new stories for another time. Coming up to the last metre of shelving I started to become desperate for some blurb to prolong my stay. John Grisham is an author I’ve read a few books of (The Last juror and Playing for pizza) so gave in for a quick perusal of two of his books, namely The Racketeer and Camino Island.
This latter had me engaged straightaway, stolen original F. Scott Fitzgerald manuscripts and the promise of a bookish story meant that I had to once again dive into reading a bestseller, which usually doesn’t end up being too rewarding a read for me. Perhaps this time it would be, and the review will be up next post. I hope the bestseller aisle treats you well in the years to come.