Excusez-moi… Am I Alone in This?
April 11th, 2008 at 11:20 am (Writers are Crazy)
I know a little French. I know a little Italian. I know very, very little Spanish. I don’t speak any of them very well, but I do read French fairly decently. Enough that I could make out parts of a story anyway. One way that I like to keep practiced up, though I must admit I have fallen into some serious disrepair, is by keeping a few French novels on hand. Every now and then, I will take out one of the books, scan through it, and, after several pages of confusion, shout to the heavens, “She wants to make it with the horse!” Then, I’ll reconsider, really hoping that’s not correct.
Though it could be.
The covers of these books tell me that I am reading, without real comprehension, some real bodice-rippers. And you know that one of these days, someone is going to see me reading it, be French-speaking, know the book, and it actually WILL be about a girl and her inappropriate love for her horse. So then they will either think I’m a perve or suddenly find me someone infinitely worth talking to. Of course, it’s all worth it to be reading a book with naked boobies on the cover.