I was standing in our backyard. In front of me were a dozen cardboard boxes. They were full of books – the first editions of my titles. Liberated from storage, these boxes were now a problem. What should I do with them?
I contemplated a conflagration – a match tossed idly into the pile. Wouldn’t work; the finest of Port Hope’s fire brigade would appear with alacrity, frightening Claire and the neighbours.
I had another sip from my mug. How to deal with this detritus of my younger self – still remembered fondly but no longer wanted?
Brilliant idea! Give the boxes to the local bookstore. I’ll sign some of the books with my usual flourish. Furby House Books could benefit, and I might see some overdue royalties!
Now they tell me that I have my own website – my faithful typewriter is apoplectic about the indignity.”