Parisian Phoenix Publishing

So yesterday, I spent the afternoon with author and friend William Prystauk, who, while he does not publish novels with us, contributes to every project and event where I extend him an invitation (Easton Book Festival, Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group, Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money, and Juicy Bits).

Bill is working on his fifth book in the Kink Noir series, Consent. I am working on the fifth book of the Fashion & Fiends series, Absolution. We like to get together occasionally because we share some literary tastes and habits and we both adore a good meal.

Yesterday, Bill and I met for a last minute brunch at Sunnyside Up in Forks Township, Pa., where oh my goodness the poached egg was perfection, the salmon melted in my mouth and the fresh fruit tasted like we were in the middle of the summer instead of the throes of winter.

After we left, I suggested heading to downtown Easton to check out what’s on the Parisian Phoenix shelf at Book & Puppet Company— and it’s a good thing I did because I haven’t dropped off new titles in almost a year. A year! Andy and his staff have been wonderfully supportive in my efforts to make a name for myself including a reference from the rebel bookseller himself to the Independent Book Publisher’s Association recommending me for their diverse voices fellowship. I did not advance in the competition, but reading Andy’s letter made me feel seen and gave me the emotional fortitude I needed at a difficult time in my life (when I lost my day job).

Bill offered to buy me a book. He saw me leafing through the Emily Henry titles talking about how she’s popular and I want to read one of her titles. So, I picked this one, because it was the newest one, other than the hardcover of Happy Place in the bookstore. The bright orange cover and the title itself drew me to People We Meet on Vacation.

From there we headed to Easton Public Market where Bill headed to Chocodiem like a man on a mission. I ordered a rose-lychee macaron and nibbled it delicately while Bill devoured his dark chocolate one like a starving dog. Then we perused some shops and Bill brought me home.

So, here’s the point of me adding this whole story to the blog:

About a decade ago, I slowly donated all of my books to the Mary Meuser Memorial Library book sale. I was in a phase of life where I didn’t see the need to hang on to all these physical books. I even had a bookcase of just vampire books from Anne Rice to Stephen King to unknowns.

Now, with my book publishing business underfoot, I am amassing books upon books again. And once upon a time, I signed and dated every book I bought. Another habit I have since abandoned. I asked my art director about a bookplate, an ex libris panel for my books, and somehow I managed to cobble this together in Canva and ordered labels to print them. And Gayle liked my work!

My daughter has plans to help me build bookshelves and carve out an office space in our home. And soon, I will start labeling my books again.

But here lies the interesting part, in my view:

Because Bill bought me the Emily Henry book, I noted on the first page:

1/13/2024

Purchased by William Prystauk

Angel Ackerman

In the future, will anyone remember me? Will anyone remember Bill? Will historians and literary scholars made hypothesis about the nature of my relationship with Bill– the kind of discussion when we look back at the storytelling group that birthed Frankenstein? Will the world wonder if Emily Henry influenced me or if Bill was a secret Emily Henry fan? Did Bill want me to read that particular book and will the people of the future ask why?

I doubt it.

But it sure is fun to consider.

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