In my years as both a bookseller and as a reader, I have discovered a most interesting and delightful phenomenon. Books find us, not the other way around. It will call to you, like dark chocolate peanut M&M’s and HGTV.
I no longer work in a bookstore, and thus have fewer opportunities to flip through publisher catalogues and fondle freshly unpacked new releases in the shipping department, but I find the books I’m supposed to find. Or so I tell myself.
As for the books that are recommended by well-meaning friends and reviewers, well…I try to be nice. It’s that subjective thing. One person’s beautifully illustrated book is another person’s piece of sentimental shit. I am the first to admit I am a tough customer.
