Today’s post sort of illustrates that sometimes you should be careful what you wish for, or indeed what you ask for. It is also a post to apologize to any publishers who think I am frightfully rude, please read on.
I had a little manic blip back in early May where I thought if one more unsolicited book arrived through the door I might scream/cry/have The Converted One move out/have a breakdown/have to build an extension. I think it was a book either about golf through the ages or maybe an autobiography of John Barrowman (I don’t include these in book arrival round ups for various reasons) and I had a little flip, not quite a somersault, more a cartwheel.
Rather than just sulk and whinge (because I do love books arriving, there are only so many Katie Price volumes you can handle though) I sent a few polite emails to the publishers of the particular books and asked if one of them would mind taking me of their mailing list, I have yet to have written about one of their books so it seemed a little crazy and costly for them, and the other to maybe wipe me off any ‘golf list’ they had. I then emailed several other publishers (not all as some very cleverly and wisely send me random unsolicited books they think I will like based on what I have read and enjoyed – very wise move, saves them money and makes the person receiving the books feel rather special) a general email along the same lines. And then something awful happened… no books arrived for just over three weeks! Though its meant have got a wriggle on with my TBR I was most perplexed and a bit worried I had offended.
Then last week on a fateful Thursday I came home to one of those wonderful red ‘we missed you’ notes and I got a little excited. There was a post-it note attached too, asking me to go to the shop next door so off I toddled and was greeted by a rather annoyed man who said ‘oh I see you’re the Simon I should be charging rent to’. I was mystified. That was until he dragged the pile of parcels you see above from his shelves and then went to the backroom to drag two post sacks to my feet )I haven’t a picture of them as a) thought that it could tip the shopkeeper over the edge for me to stand there and get snap happy and b) I had to hide them from The Converted One) with the words ‘these belong to you I think’. Any joy I had had for Royal Mail left me instantly. Can you believe they have been dumping my parcels on the doorway for anyone to nab and not leaving a note? I live on a main road – though high up above it, and the shop keeper was a rare kind fellow who had been saving them. I have bought them a very expensive box of biscuits as a thank you.
So that’s why there has been no update on books arriving for ages, and why publishers might be thinking I am an ungrateful tool! Has anything similar happened to any of you? What bookish horror stories do you have? Oh and if you want to know what did arrive then you can pop just here if you don’t like posts with lots of books you may wish to move on though…