"Oh, it looks about the size and shape of a Robert Jordan novel," answered the man.
Gus calls these avid readers "Jordan nuts." Almonds, anyone?
Me, I'm a roasted Pym nut, still enjoying phrases like "the Ovaltine had loosened her tongue" an bits of dialogue like "Well, Harriet, there's no getting away from it, he reminds me of a sheep!"
A woman once told me I wrote like Barbara Pym, a compliment I could only truly appreciate once I had read some, and later when I needed a letter of recommendation, I reminded her of what she had said, and she declined to include the comparison, saying, "No one would believe me," which is just the kind of awkward backhanded compliment Barbara Pym would enjoy.
People keep dying. Today it was the theatre photographer who took my headshot, the one you see here at my profile. Sigh. Wheel of time, indeed. Remember in the film Carousel, when the girl dances on the wheel at the beach? And Billy gives her the star? Everybody, rest in peace.