Some more news from the Emma Bolden camp tonight reminds me that she’s a total rockstar. (Keep an eye on her blog, details will no doubt appear there soon enough.)

If you don’t already have her book, why don’t you swing by Toadlilly Press and order yourself a copy? You can thank me later.

I’m so unfaithful to you, book.  I lay around with you all night, nowhere to go, nothing else which needed doing.  I took you in the bathtub and then dragged you back to bed, barely able to towel myself off before I opened you again.  I could barely keep myself in the moment of each page, so eager to discover everything about you.  I practically had my mouth around your syntax, saying it with you, until finally I reached the last page, and lingered only a moment before putting you down.  You’re still on the pillow but I’m up, walking around: a drink of water, a stretch, a walk around the house, feeding the cats.  I’ll think about you the rest of the night, sleep with the memory of you, but tomorrow, I will open up the next book and begin reading.  We spend a week together, maybe two, and then I move on to the next thing, not in spite of you, dear book, never in spite of you: because reading you brought such pleasure, and later served only to remind me that there are so many books I’ve yet to read.