This one goes with the toenail-painting blunder. You know your brain is going when you start calling friends by the wrong name. The other day, when I said—
A Room of One’s Own, which I somehow never got around to meeting until last year, became at once a close friend, Anne-and-Diana close, a book I felt I’d known all my life before I was three chapters in. It is for me an August book, to be reserved for a certain kind of sun-drenched day, when the air is heavy but the heart is light.
—I meant, of course, A Room with a View
Well, I did kind of *wonder* … and thought, “Should I go dig my Virginia Woolf out of the bag I have ready to go to the Goodwill? Did I miss something?” 😉
Whew! You had me worried there for a bit. I certainly don’t always enjoy the same books other people enjoy, but I don’t usually have a completely different understanding altogether.
LOL–You must have thought I was nuts. Of all the books to make that typo with! So completely the opposite of the kind of reading experience I was describing!