I Know I Did Something Else Flaky, But I Forget What

This one goes with the toenail-painting blunder. You know your brain is going when you start calling friends by the wrong name. The other day, when I said—

A Room of One’s Own, which I somehow never got around to meeting until last year, became at once a close friend, Anne-and-Diana close, a book I felt I’d known all my life before I was three chapters in. It is for me an August book, to be reserved for a certain kind of sun-drenched day, when the air is heavy but the heart is light.

—I meant, of course, A Room with a View, a golden book, not a gray one. A Room of One’s Own is February reading, and we are only on gravely polite terms.

Tags: literature, children’s literature, children’s books

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Comments

1. 

   Karen E. says:

   Well, I did kind of *wonder* … and thought, “Should I go dig my Virginia Woolf out of the bag I have ready to go to the Goodwill? Did I miss something?” 😉

   On April 11, 2006 at 11:02 am

2. 

   Leslie says:

   Whew! You had me worried there for a bit. I certainly don’t always enjoy the same books other people enjoy, but I don’t usually have a completely different understanding altogether.

   On April 11, 2006 at 8:32 pm

3. 

   Melissa Wiley says:

   LOL–You must have thought I was nuts. Of all the books to make that typo with! So completely the opposite of the kind of reading experience I was describing!

   On April 12, 2006 at 12:39 am