Stephen Clarke

July is one of the best times to be a girl in Paris because this is the time of year that every store holds its soldes, or sales. The big sales happen twice a year, January and July, and the opening days have been known to cause quite a frenzy. Anyone in their right mind would stay far away from the shopping districts during the first days of July, but I just couldn't help myself.

David wisely chose to sit this one out, and after his morning run settled in with a book for the afternoon. I headed out to rue Rivoli and only caused minor damage to the bank account. Fortunately, I still have my old US credit card and my old US bank account to pay it off with, so David doesn't have to know exactly how much damage.

In the late afternoon I called home and we made dinner plans. Dave did some online researching and found an Italian restaurant nearby and we agreed to meet.

I arrived at the rendezvous point 15 minutes early and perched on a rail to wait. I could have sat there all day watching confused tourists wander past. Four different people came up to me asking for directions, two in English. I waved my arms, pointed, or directed them to the neighborhood map that was posted only 15 feet away.

When David turned up we started toward the Latin Quarter and the restaurant. When we stopped for him to examine a map he had printed out, I noticed a flier posted nearby.

The first thing that caught my eye was that it was in English. A Canadian bookstore was celebrating Canada Day, July 1 (which happened to be the next day), with two book launches. The second thing I noticed was that one of the books just happened to be the sequel to the book I'm currently reading. I didn't even know there was a sequel. What are the chances?

The author's first two books are about an English guy moving to Paris and his experiences with the country, the culture, the bureaucracy, the cheese, the women, etc. He has a hilarious view on French life.

Anyway, the next day I finished my chores by 2 in the afternoon and had the rest of the day free. After some fidgeting I decided I wanted to go to the book launch. I knew the author lived in Paris and I thought he might be there. I mean, what's the point in a book launch if the author isn't there?

Dave agreed to tag along, and I stuffed our books into my tote bag for us to read in a park if the book launch was a bust. We took the metro back to the Latin Quarter, through a tourist-packed street in Saint-Michel, and turned down a quiet narrow street. Ahead we saw a small group of people gathered and Dave rolled his eyes. Then he said "Hey, there he is!"

And there he was, Stephen Clarke, reading an excerpt from his latest book. We were late, but we heard about 20 minutes of it. Afterward I stood in line in the cramped store to buy the book, one whole day before its official release (if only I could do that with Harry Potter, I'd be rich). I pulled out my other book and the author signed both for me while I tried to think of something clever to say. Of course, I failed fantastically and only managed to say something stupid about how perfect it was that I got his first book just before learning I was moving to Paris. Someone else was currently talking in his ear, but he managed to look me in the eye and say "Where did you move from?"

I said "Michigan" shyly and he said "Oh." Obviously never been there, obviously had nothing to say about it. I took my books and dashed.

So that was meeting Stephen Clarke, and of course, an hour later I had thought of all kinds of clever things to say to him.

The best part of the whole experience was that on Saturday afternoon I was reading a book and had no idea that 24 hours later I'd be meeting the author. Paris is fun like that.