An open letter to the dirt bag who stole my copy of Going Bovine
Hey dirt bag – yes, I’m using slang from the 80s – that’s how mad I am. So, dirt bag, ya had to go and steal my copy of Going Bovine by Libba Bray out of my car. I bought her y/a novel after hearing her speak at the SCBWI Winter Conference in NY.
It’s the story of a teenager with mad cow disease who goes on a road trip with his dwarf friend and a garden gnome to save the world and himself – I know right!?
The voice is so dead-on modern day Holden Caulfield, with a tragic/hilaric twist. The story has me simultaneously laughing my guts out, and twisting my intestines in sorrow and hope that I can’t put it down. The characters are so vulnerable, yet so committed to their quest, that you are rooting for them all the way. I carry the book with me everywhere – which is serious dedication since it’s hardcover. I read it at lunch, on coffee break, on the train (sorry for laughing out loud so much), to the place where they change the oil in my car … I take it everywhere in case I can steal a few minutes from my day to read.
I even took it into the sushi restaurant with me because I didn’t want anyone to steal it. But I didn’t drag it in with me to Deepak Chopra’s presentation because who in this infinite field of possibilities would steal it from my car?!
I gotta tell ya dirt bag, that’s the lowest thing you can do – steal a book from a reader when I was half way through. Why didn’t you steal my ipod with its 642 songs? Hey, how come there was no force of entry, how’d you get in dirt bag? Are you in cahoots with the parking lot guy? Why didn’t you steal the empty plastic container that had my lentil soup in it? Yeah, my ipod’s still here, plastic container, daytimer … what’s this hard thing at the bottom of my work bag that feels like a … book. Oh, there it is, and the bookmark is still there. Chapter 23, just where I left off … I’ve got a few minutes now at this red light …
Next blog post: Open letter of apology to all the dirt bags in the world.