Auteur : Marie Alice

Bright neon lights softened by vintage foggy panels create a quiet yet somewhat gloomy atmosphere.

Hills and mountains of stuff are piling up where the many bookshelves give way, creating many narrow aisles for clients to explore.

That’s where I’ll be. Within those bookshelves, under those strange lights.

After many turns and roundabouts and crossroads, I’m back working in a bookshop.

Starting in a few hours as I write these words. Can’t help but wonder where you are as you read this, dear fellow writers, where you’re going, what will your day be like. In any case, I hope you’re well and safe.

Yep. Bookshop mama. That’s the day job now. Hopefully, for years to come.

Since I’ve been working in the field before, my expectations are inexistent. As for my ambitions, I have none but one: bring joy to readers by sharing my relentless love for novels, cookbooks, books, books, books.

It’s an intriguing feeling, like going back home after years on the run, trying everything except to be happy.

What I’m excited about is all the words, all the stories that will, inevitably, feed the writing mojo.

Poor little writing mojo, it’s been a long summer!
No writing routine would stick, for I was thinking
and getting kiddo to camp
and pondering
and taking care of chores
and watching old movies while reminiscing about the past, about the years to come. (Well, I am 35 to 44 years old after all, a bit of a middle-life crisis was bound to happen, yes ;) )

All that summer thinking-pondering-watching led to a conclusion: I needed to do a useful job. A meaningful job. A bring joy-to-the-world job.

In my very humble opinion, among the very few jobs that fit the description, being a book clerk (libraire in French) is the best.

Not that I’m jumping on and down at the idea of going back to the challenges that the job implies. Dreading, dreading, dreading bookshop politics and coworkers’ grudges the most.

However, I dare say, for the first time in my life, I am at peace with my decision.

Fellow writers, thanks again for taking the time to read this.

I wish you a good day or a good night’s work, dear fellow writers.

May all the good words flow your way. Be well!

For a couple of weeks, the Japanese lilacs have been blooming. Many of those trees are standing, tall, in the neighbourhood.

The little white flowers are slowly turning golden brown now, and their sweet perfume fills the summer heat.

Sitting in the shade to write, my thoughts keep wandering toward the many piles of books to read that have been gathering dust, one on the nightstand, another beside a deep armchair, one here, one there…

In my francophone writing community, summer seems to be the preferred season to either start a writing project or, better yet, if, like me, you’ve been working on the same project for almost two years, finish it.

Maybe because I know a lot of teachers and adult students!

For me, summer always went hand in hand with reading. Or, more precisely, binge reading.

Last weekend, an old friend of mine, one I haven’t seen in five years or so, reminded me of my teenage reading years; how she remembered me reading Lord of the Rings and the very first novels about King Arthur and les chevaliers de la table ronde. How, she said, I was either reading or making my friends read the repetitive letters I wrote them while I was supposed to pay attention in class.

Since writing I’ve proven to be somewhat… blah lately, I set myself up for a reading quest!

And because I’m taking a class in Romance literature, I had to start with a romance novel.

A genre, weirdly enough, that is a challenge for me. I’m very picky. It has to be on the « clean » side, and it needs to be well-written.

I browsed and browsed to find myself increasingly annoyed despite the so many romance novels out there. Everything seemed too cutesy, too clean in fact.

Until I stumbled upon a title in French, L’amour en cadeau. The cover shows a sober Christmas tree. Precisely what I needed: I may be picky, but give me a good Christmas novel and there’s a good chance I’ll love it no matter what.

Turns out, I choose the fourth novel of the Sweet Magnolias series by Sherryl Wood. Didn’t even know it was also a series on Netflix.

I do so Hate to start a series in the middle. But here I am, reading Welcome to Serenity and… loving it!

Must admit, I skip some paragraphs, and there’s eyebrows rising all the way up to the sky, but overall, I’m conquered up to the point where I will read the first tree novels of the series for sure.

A very enjoyable summer read!