My friend Amy found this signed copy of Stop-Time at the used book shop yesterday, and so I clubbed her over the head until she was unconscious, tore the book from her hands (which even in unconsciousness were still clutching quite clutchingly), sprang to the register, paid for the book, and disappeared using her car in which she had brought us to the shop. Hopefully she made it back home last night. 

Stop-Time is one of my favorite books—one of the few that I took to Singapore with me. It’s a memoir that reads like a novel. I love that Mr. Conroy followed his signature with his birth date and believed in “tact, kindness and expertise” (although, I guess not Oxford commas). I’m changing my name to Inge on this ocassion. 

In other news, if you didn’t see my story up at fwriction yesterday, click this link to go there now.