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May 12, 2026 
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| Ruth Fremson/The New York Times |
Dear readers,
I’d like to use today’s missive to call your attention to two wonderful turns of phrase in recent Book Review coverage.
In this delightful piece about a bookstore on wheels, I encountered a wholly new (to me) phrase via a surprised book lover in Alabama: “Oh my Satan!” she exclaimed. “I’m a fool for books!”
I can’t even drive, but the story of how Rita Collins decided to spend her retirement — cruising across America in a van she’s christened Saint Rita’s Amazing Traveling Bookstore Textual Apothecary — has inspired me to think about getting my permit. Collins, after a career teaching English in Europe and working in social services for older adults, decided to marry her love of travel with her fervor for books. To date, she’s been to 40 states and has logged more than 100,000 miles. Inspiring!
The other sentence that caught my eye this week comes from a recent debut novel, Annakeara Stinson’s “Nerve Damage,” which beguiled me with its premise alone. Clarice, its central character, is convinced her ex has crossed the country to harass her, and as she sinks into (justified) paranoia, she ends up stalking him. The spiky writing is full of lines like the one that stopped me: “I go to therapy twice a week and have the sexual prowess of unleavened bread.”
Ah, the charms of self-deprecation! See you next time.
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