By Nick Hornby
Published within the US as Songbook
31 Songs is best-selling writer Nick Hornby's final desolate tract island disks
Through thirty-one songs that he both loves or has enjoyed, Nick Hornby tells us what track ability to his existence. those own and passionate items - refreshingly freed from pretension - are a party of the enjoyment that convinced songs have given him. including extra writings on track from his column within the new Yorker - visible within the united kingdom for the 1st time - 31 Songs is for Hornby what many people have regularly sought after: a soundtrack to accompany life.
Winner of The nationwide e-book Critics Circle award, this humorous and touchingly own e-book, from the writer of the million-copy number 1 bestseller a couple of Boy, is a needs to for tune fanatics everywhere.
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Extra info for 31 Songs
Okay, I know: Cry me a river. We don’t get cancer or diabetes or things like that. We do get colds and flu and the plague, but we recover. For your info, smallpox scars take about fifteen years to fade. We can get burned, have limbs cut off, have horrible wounds—but they heal, as I explained earlier. It takes time, but they all heal. Limbs grow back, a process both disgusting and fascinating. It takes several years. Despite our name, we can be killed. But it takes some doing, so don’t knock yourself out trying.
I drove straight through the town in less than ten minutes. Not a major metropolis. I turned around and drove back into it, cruising the neighborhoods, following the winding roads around the town’s outskirts. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. A sign? Either a literal sign, like RIVER’S EDGE, TURN LEFT, or a metaphorical sign, like a burning bush or something, a bolt of lightning pointing me in the right direction. Two minutes later I was out of the town again. I pulled over, leaned my head on the steering wheel, and slammed my palms against the dashboard.
Worse than that poor girl who’d actually wanted to marry him, in the 1970s. That had been such a disaster. I’d managed to explain away those situations to myself, made them make sense. This one I was having a harder time with. With a last, beautiful grin at me, Incy headed off to prowl the crowd that was already sending out tendrils of interest, from both males and females. Incy was irresistible, a seductive magnet, and most people, human and immortal alike, were helpless under the charm that hid a side that was, suddenly, so much darker than I’d realized.