Writing a blog can seem like fun and games but the truth is that much of the time it's a slippery slope towards becoming a hipster douchebag. You're always just one pretentious post with some black and white photos, some dodgy poetry or a guide to skinny jeans away from being someone Michael Cera would play in an indie comedy for young adults.
I fear this post could be the catylst to this blog becoming another self-absorbed plea for gratification of a clusterfudge but sure what harm. I like second-hand books and I especially like when books have notes left inside them. This goes back to library books that would have ultimately pointless instructions scrawled in the margins under the pretence of a bit of juicy goss at the end, and was rekindled when I found a Terry Pratchett book that had been given as an anniversary present and then eventually given away. But I resisted the temptation to start compiling such discoveries..UNNNTILLL NOOWWWW..
My copy of The Good Fairies Of New York contains this note -
It's innocent enough. Presumably 'C' didn't find it as Fab as the gift giver as the book was subsequently given away. I mean, if this was a horror film there would be some more sinister reason but then I'd have to find a photo in the book of a creepy kid or something to thicken the plot..
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