One of the great pleasures of wandering into a brick and mortar bookstore is leisurely browsing through the books on offer. Picking up something that catches your eye, reading the back or cover flap description, and deciding to take a chance on the unknown. You can guess that it might fit your interests, but you’re still tossing the dice. And every once in a while, one of your whim purchases turns out to be an entirely satisfying delight, the one you start telling all your friends about because it is just that good.
This is what happened to me last summer. A cover on the new paperback table caught my eye one evening, Amy Snow. I read the back copy. Historical fiction, England, orphans, and a mysterious trail of letters. Sold. I think I read it in two days, if that. And I was utterly charmed by the characters, the hints of Austen and Dickens, the good-heartedness of the story. It truly hit that sweet spot of being light, happy escape reading while still having lovely literary prose.
So I started talking about it, as did my co-workers. I don’t think there were many days through the fall and winter that that I didn’t mention Amy Snow to at least one browser, looking for a good new read. We ordered them in by the handful, and before I knew it, Amy Snow had become one of our top sellers of the year ... continued