Some book tales of the unexpected

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ON Saturday I took part in a book signing for my new Marilyn Monroe biography.

Thanks to everyone who came to see me, it was great to meet you. However, the award for the most laughs must go to those who had no idea who I was or why I was there...

First of all, I was mistaken for a shop assistant on more than one occasion. The most memorable when I became aware of a lady behind me, muttering loudly about the lack of maths books in store. “This is absolutely ridiculous,” she said, and before I knew it she was right behind me, poking me on the shoulder. I turned around and without even looking in my direction, the woman started a tirade of complaints.

“Do you mind telling me why on earth you have no maths books in store?” she enquired.

I immediately told her I didn’t work in the shop, but she carried on complaining any way. I told her again that I was not employed there and finally she stopped talking, looked me up and down, looked at my book table, looked at me again and then muttered “Hmph!” before going to find someone else to complain to.

As it turned out, there were maths books in store, so she made her purchase and left.

But by far the most amusing was the gentleman who peered at me from behind a shelf for about 10 minutes, before finally sauntering up to my table.

“Did you write this book?” he asked, pointing to my pile of Marilyn books.

“Yes I did,” I answered.

“Do you ghost write?” he asked.

“Ghost write as in writing for other people?” I answered.

He shook his head.

“No, ghost stories. Do you write ghost stories.”

Oh, now I understood. “No,” I said. “I don’t write ghost stories.”

“Well that’s a pity,” he said. “I am a ghost hunter and I’m looking for someone to write a book for me.”

By now I was pretty much confused. Ghost write a ghost book? Now that’s something I hadn’t heard before.

I assured him that no, I have no intention of writing a ghost book, but that he was more than welcome to read the book I had actually written.

He looked down at my pile of books, shook his head and said: “Marilyn Monroe?

“No, I have no interest in reading about dead people…” and off the ghost hunter went, leaving me feeling even more confused if that were at all possible…