Nice comeback from yesterday's fiasco. Sold a Melissa Etheridge CD to a mailman and a bunch of soft and hard cover books, including a large one on the history of the CIA, part of Arlynn's vast donation, which included three children's books I sold to a nice Russian lady, among them the wildly popular Sponge Bob. One of my regulars, a woman with a beautiful islands accent, emerged from hibernation to buy, in mint condition, James Patterson's I, Alex Cross. "I didn't want to go out of the house," she said with a shudder, lamenting the long winter.
The highlight of the session was the appearance of my buddy Bob Rubenstein, author of Ghost Runners. He is hard at work on his follow up and is becoming weary of Nazis. I quipped that he should do what Quentin Tarantino did at the end of Inglorious Basterds - a cathartic killing of them all that flies in the face of actual history. He looked at me and said: "You just gave me the ending to the book." He will kill off the Nazis and the corporate people, like Henry Ford, who did business with them. That would be fun. I can see it, something like a mock trial and a death sentence. Bob will have plenty of time to work it out. He is leaving on a three week trip to New Mexico on Friday, by train, a conveyance he finds conducive to writing. I'd go nuts. I did a 30 or so hour trip to Kalamazoo my first semester at Western Michigan University. Hated every minute of it. From then on it was airlines.
Read Vic's stories, free: http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment