Parisian Phoenix Publishing

I got an email last week from someone who borrowed my novelette Not the Quiet French Kid in ebook format from her local library. She took the time to contact me and told me that her grandfather once lived in my house.

I purchased my house with my husband twenty years ago from a family that had a printing press in the garage. (They did not have the printing press when I purchased the house.) And it turned out, this woman’s grandfather sold the house to them. He, like the patriarch of the family who sold me the house, worked in printing and had a small press in the basement.

The grandfather of the person who contacted me used to run the printing room at the local daily newspaper, The Easton Express, which happens to be the same company that gave me my first full-time newspaper job. (Okay, so it was in their weekly division, but I worked in the same building as the commercial printing shop.)

So what do you think? Am I fated to live where I live and make books?