Last Sunday I decided to go to the local public library as part of my weekly “I need to get out of the house” initiative[1]. And, while I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I wanted to find a book somewhere between well-written, thoughtful piece of literature and the purely recreational “beach read” type novel. Specifically, while I certainly was not in the market for anything Nicolas Sparks-esque[2], I was looking for a page-turner that would grab my interest and “suck me in.” Got to love literature.
So, while scanning the shelves, I decided on two novels: Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania by Erik Larson and The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. Both have received considerable positive attention in the last several months and promised the perfect combination of elevated style (more so than Sparks, at least) and exhilarating intrigue. Sold: I was excited to begin reading.
Tuesday night, upon my initial, sacred “cracking open[3]” of The Girl on the Train, I noticed that the library patron before me had left a copy of his or her receipt in the novel. Eager to begin reading, I almost crumpled the receipt without looking at it, but curiosity got the best of me. And boy, am I glad that it did.
On January 6th, 2016, in addition to checking out a New York Times Bestseller, someone also gleefully left the library with the following items (I will provide coinciding cover pages for your illustrative viewing pleasure):
-Debbie Macomber’s Dashing Through the Snow: A Christmas Novel
-W.E.B. Griffin’s Deadly Assets
-Robert B. Parker’s Back Story
-Lori Foster’s Yule Be Mine
-And, my personal favorite, Janet Dailey’s A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
Here’s the evidence in case you think I’m bluffing. I swear: I couldn’t make this up…
Without incriminating the local reader, the last person to check out The Girl on the Train was named “W-something Polish-ski,” Wi. Unfortunately for me and my Nancy Drew-like ways, the rest of this man or woman’s first name was decidedly eliminated due to the fact that the “W-something Polish-ski’s” last name was a mere 13 letters long. But, this still gave me something to work with: “Wi…” Hmm. Well, if he’s a man, his name could be something like “William” or “Wilbur.” If Wi is a woman, then perhaps she is a “Wilma” or “Witney.” If I were to gander a guess, given the suspiciously specific genre-focused list, I would suspect that said patron is female. However, you never truly do know, and this delightedly makes things even more interesting.
Now—despite my best intentions— I’m no super sleuth, but I think I’m seeing a theme here with these provided titles…
Naturally, I wanted to prove if my theories were correct. Upon doing a little undercover investigative work, I found the following descriptions. I have to admit, that I was left with some unanswered questions…
A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree:
THE SWEETEST GIFTS. . . Sam Bennett left a snowbound Colorado ranch for the glittering steel canyons of Manhattan—temporarily. Hard work was never this much fun as he sets up Christmas trees all around town. And now that he’s met Nicole Young, a gorgeous window designer, four weeks won’t be enough to romance her the way he wants to. . .
…What? Don’t ellipses “dot-dot-dot” me! I need to know… four weeks won’t be enough to romance her the way he wants to how? …naked in his cowboy boots under the twinkling lights of an evergreen tree?[4]
Notably, the description for Yule be Mine was also un-reassuringly ambiguous:
Sparkling days, crackling fires, long steamy nights…Christmas is all about making memories. In three delicious tales of seduction and romance, New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster brings you all the pleasures of the season—and then some…
…and then some what?! What’s so delicious: the Christmas sugar cookies and eggnog? Where’s the mention of fire if we are invoking the idea of “Yule…” Oh my gosh… I just got it. I earnestly hope the novel does not include a pun about anyone’s “yule log.” Oh my gosh… It totally does: And it probably belongs to the cowboy under the Christmas tree…
All of this has a very “Fifty Shades of Grey[5] meets Christmas” type vibe. Although, let’s be honest, given the way this library receipt is reading, I think we can assume that “W-something Polish-ski” voraciously devoured “fifty shades” long ago… Which leads me to wonder: What is “W-something Polish-ski” like? What is her backstory? Does she have a husband, a cowboy under her Christmas tree? Does she have kids that incessantly badger her asking, “What are you reading, mom?” Maybe she should invest in a Kindle so they’ll never know…
http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/amazon-mothers-day-ad/n13488
Admittedly, in this vein, I am more than a little disappointed that the description for Deadly Assets does not match my imagined plot line involving a dangerous protagonist with a penchant for violence and an impeccably sculpted behind. Alas, it’s a crime novel with no perceptible allusion to sexual deviance. Similarly, I am shocked that Back Story has nothing to do with— ahem— the aforementioned theorized “deadly assets[6].” I am thoroughly disappointed, “W-something Polish-ski”: You lack consistency, my good sir (or madame). I mean, given the context of said receipt, how could these novels not involve a bit of booty? I like my interpretations better. A girl can dream…
After thoroughly stalking the incriminating novels on Barnes and Noble’s website, my computer seems to think it’s “picking up what I’m putting down.” As a result, I’m clearly being targeted as having an acutely marketable interest in saucy romance novels. Thanks a lot, “W-something Polish-ski”: Look at the Internet advertising campaign that is now going to haunt me for the foreseeable future… I guess this is what I get for judging your supposedly private library finds. But, then again, I guess this is what you get for leaving your checkout receipt to be aired with the rest of your romance novel dirty laundry.
[1] The struggle is all too real.
[2] Admittedly, I am getting a little tired of Sparks and his generic love story formula: Boy meets girl in a quaint North Carolina town. Boy likes girl. Boy is tall, dark, and handsome; girl is tall, blonde, athletic, and pretty in a simple, “I don’t wear too much makeup” natural kind of way. Either boy or girl likes to go on long runs. Boy, at some point in the novel, will take a “long pull” on his beer [probably while thinking about girl…obviously.] Boy and girl cannot be together because of some underlying emotional conflict that takes the first half of the book to develop. Boy and girl are in love. Boy and girl have sex. Boy and girl are in even more love. Did I miss anything?
…Although, I’m not going to lie: I’m on the library waiting list for his newest novel. What can I say: I have read all of his novels to-date, and I’m not going to break my record: Gotta catch ‘em all.
[3] I’m not the only one who is struck with a rush of excitement and adrenaline while cracking open a new book for the first time, right?
[4] Oh, don’t even judge me: We all know you were thinking it too.
[5] Yes, this is how I am tying my crayon color in, with Fifty Shades of Grey. What of it? I feel dirty, like a sellout: Cheap move. However, it is notable to mention that, upon conducting a bit of simple research (No, I have not read the trilogy, thank you very much), I learned that the book was intentionally titled after its protagonist, Christian (not to be confused with Dorian) Grey, who was appropriately named to symbolically elicit the vast scale of colors between black and white. (See, I’m not too off base here: Go colors!) Indeed, it is said that Grey was named as a criticism of people who only see the world in “black” and “white”: They think everything is purely good or bad, socially acceptable and condoned or delinquent and dirty. Apparently the title is meant to encourage readers to think outside of this sharp binary contrast: To forgo “black and white” perspectives and embrace the myriad “shades of grey” of [sexual] possibilities that exist. How’s that for a color lesson, Crayola?
[6] Get it? Back story? Backside… I thought I was truly on to something here…
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