A chucklesome review

This business of reviews is a sticky subject with we writing folk. Fine ones are flown like the brightest and most boisterous kites from the highest peaks, less flattering ones can spark feuds which endure for lifetimes.

I've heard a few scribblers say they either don't read, or don't bother about, reviews; claims which I believe not at all, not in the slightest.  There's not a writer who isn't proud of what he or she has come up with, who doesn't feel some sort of bond, or need to protect it. 

In some ways it's like being a parent.  You just have to look after and defend that which you've created, however flawed you know it might be.

Anyhow, given all that, let's trespass a little way into the dangerous land of reviews, because I was told of one offered of a book of mine this week which has made me chuckle every time I think about it.

It was on The TV Detective, penned by "The Librarian", and, in summary, went something thus - I was enjoying the book, got half way through and then left it on the tube, so I can't say any more.

Wonderful! This has set off all sorts of mental meanderings. What's become of the book? Has someone else picked it up and is reading it? And what of The Librarian? Has he or she gone out and got another copy, or were they perhaps not enjoying it quite that much?!

It's quite the most distinctive review I've ever had, so thanks to The Librarian for your contribution to my writing career, and for raising a much-needed smile in what's been a tricky week. 

All this had me reflecting on what's one of the most curious elements of writing for me - the wondering what's happening to your books when they're published. Are people reading them in the bath, on a plane, on a beach, at home in their favourite armchair... and are they handing them on to others with a recommendation, giving them a favoured place upon a shelf, or setting their course straight to the charity shop?

So, I can now happily add a new and certain experience to my little wonderings about what fate befalls my books.  I'm just hoping the novel in question has been found and given a decent home, and isn't still riding around on the Circle Line, much as its creator commonly does when he ventures out of the safety of Devon to the big city...