BOOKED UNDER

I need more books, like I need another set of braces!

Despite being snowed under with all the reads thanks to all the authors who have made stop-overs back from the Melbourne Writers Fest or en route to the Brisbane Writers Fest, my days and non-existent nights have been one big sleepless blur. It's either research, scripts or edits. No, I'm not complaining. Have had the most amazing conversations in the past one week, its another story that my still life came alive with what was happening in the Three Pines or what misery Deaver's Daniel Pell would inflict next. Those stories have since paved way for some lush gardens and the rise of India and China. An eclectic fortnight, as they say. My best efforts to complete 'The Road' have come to naught and now I need to get past the Ubud Long list. Which is why, the last thing I needed was being in the vicinity of a book sale.

It was supposed to be a concert for the kids, we were supposed to have our cup of coffee and head right back. So much for best laid plans. There was that enticing 'Sale' sign. This time it was Times The Bookshop. Who could resist? We tried, you know. We told ourselves, we won't be tempted this time. There are no more bookshelves, soon we'll be sleeping on the books. Yes, we told ourselves that. Ok, we'll just take a look and not buy anything.

Then we spotted this and melted:


Oooo, before there was 'The Life of Pi', there was this:

There was Ruth Praver Jhabvala too. And some great books on healing the soul. Soon the basket was filling up.

Yes, as always we were buying more than we needed. But they are books we reminded ourselves. Some day, our kids will discover these, we wished deep inside. And as we weighed ourselves down yet again, I gingerly mentioned that red Ikea bookshelf. It might look good next to our beige wall. You know that thing about thoughts....