14-02-22

strange occurrence.

i found myself in a second hand bookshop i used to frequent, i'm having a great discussion with the owners father whom i have known from the old days. he is a jazz aficionado and i always loved the music he played when i used to peruse the shelves, we exchanged hello's and he pointed to the science fiction section as he knows that's where i like to peruse. it's a big shop, filled with rooms, corridors and nooks. the area he pointed to was half filled with books while plastic bags piled over the rest of the floor, sometimes several deep.

'as you can see we are tiding up,' the jazz man sayeth, 'but we have some shelves filled with science fiction.'

i peer in, noticing that yet again book shops always make the mistake of mixing up science fiction with fantasy.

'there's a big difference,' i say, 'science fiction appeals to a smaller cross section and is a more challenging read.'

he's bemused by this and we embark upon a long interesting discussion upon writers and how they should be categorized within these genres.

a lovely young lady stands at the counter with her pile of books, all classics and i suggest that he serve her, as he does he explains that i am a writer and we are discussing the differences between sci fi and fantasy.

she agrees with me and then asks what i write.

and at that moment the jazz man says, 'hang on, i can show you and pulls out a copy of my book which he has under the counter.

i'm bemused by this strange occurrence as the girl buys a copy and the jazz man gives me the cash, which in turn is used to buy an andrew vachess book by me.

the young lady asks if i can sign the book for her and i do, inscribing it with a dedication and i notice my book piled up with her purchases of chaucer, charles dickens and keats. how very strange life is. both myself, the young lady and the jazzman agree we have shared a beautiful moment. 

happy valentines day