By Elina Vaysbeyn |
Off the Shelf - Tuesday, September 09, 2014
When you work in publishing, you read a lot. And I mean a lot. I’m not complaining here—there are much worse professional fates met by people with less mentally stimulating callings. But you become more discriminating, more business-minded about the process.
However, sometimes there comes along a book that can still make you feel like you’re a high-schooler with a new crush on a cute classmate. It gives you butterflies. It makes you giggle in social situations when no one said anything funny. This book feels fresh and cool, like a spring breeze. Last weekend I read Robin Sloan’s runaway hit, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. I knew this book had a following, had seen it on The Huffington Post and Slate reading lists. My interest was piqued, but I had to wade through a pile of books for work before it was Mr. Penumbra’s turn.
Before heading out to Prospect Park on Saturday, I looked around my apartment and the unassuming cover drew me in—no ceremonious portraits of American heroes, no feminine silhouettes or Game of Thrones-like swords—only cute little yellow rectangles. It was just right. As soon as I started reading, I noticed the lightness in Robin Sloan’s prose. It flowed like sunshine between the pages, unperturbed by the density of sentence structure or $10 words. It was smart. A little too smart. -
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