#12: My other life as a runaway bookshop owner
I'm not actually a bookshop owner.
But in another life - my other life! - I am.
At some point, around age 10, my world split and a pair of dual realities began running on parallel tracks.
I'm having a Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors moment as I pen this.
There's the side of me that pursued music journalism, event marketing and advertising; demonstrating a zeal-for-life kind of extroversion my parents found hard to pinpoint. Where did all this come from?
Likely, back when I swopped ballet for hip hop dance classes, but I digress.
The other side; the bookish type, read Sweet Valley Twins novels and made up her own - a style of chick lit fan fiction that was mostly plagiarism. Except, her twins didn't live in sunny California, but scorching Johannesburg.
She started a bookclub, wrote a school play and filled jotters with stories and poems.
In my early 20's, I lost touch with her for a bunch of years, preferring nightlife, festivals and adventure. I spent my early 30's trying to track her down, hardly surprised she'd made a hasty escape to find some peace and quiet.
Finally, I found her. Alive and well, running an independent bookshop in San Francisco - as runaway inner-introverts do.
The store bell tinkled as I entered, the smell of books greeting my nose like old friends. She was stunned, but happy to see me.
She lived a simple life; surrounded by books. She hosted book launches and writers circles from the store. She'd read every book on her reading list and even published one or two. She had two dogs and a husband, exactly like me.
We caught up over coffee - decaf for us both - overlooking the iconic red bridge. We found we were more similar now than we'd been for a while.
She said there were some great spots to go dancing downtown.
I said I'd like to see her more often.
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