I am in a bookshop. A mother and a daughter are wondering whether to buy my book as a present for an older man.
This is a risky strategy for my picture is on the back cover of the book as the author.
My hope is that they will not recognise me for I believe I am a wiser and fuller person than I was when that picture was taken for money by a photographer in the city.
At the cash desk, I simply ask the cashier if the book that I have in my hand is selling well?
I sense she is lying and wondering how to call security.
I leave the book on a display table inside the door and leave.
I hope the man is happy with his copy of the bestseller. I hope they buy it for him.
He deserves no less.
If they do not, I hope their car gets a puncture on the way home with someone else's book.
Such are the thoughts of a venal author.