Collected Works from Collected Works
On Friday morning I dropped by my favourite bookshop in the world – Collected Works. It’s in the Nicholas Building on the corner of Flinders Lane and Swanston Street in downtown Melbourne. I was searching for books for my very-well-read godchildren. There’s been a run of birthdays in the last month and somehow I’ve managed to fall behind in my godmotherly duties. But the great thing about godparenting is that you are so easily forgiven (or at least, that’s what I’m banking on).
One of the lovely things about being a god-parent is having the luxury of being the source of strange and unexpected gifts. I’m ashamed to admit my presents rarely arrive on time and are inevitably of the bookish persuasion but, so far, the feedback from the kids has been positive and I like to imagine that they sow a seed of curiosity.
After a long and intense conversation with the ever-wise Kris Hemensley, the resident poet of Collected Works, I put several books on order as belated birthday presents and walked out with three books of poetry which I KNOW I should put in the post immediately. Unfortunately, I’m going to have trouble parting with them. Especially Adam Ford’s ‘The Third Fruit is a Bird’. There’s a certain seventeen-year-old who is destined to eventually own it but perhaps I’ll have to go back and buy another copy as this one is already looking well-loved. (Okay, RW, you know it’s on its way). Perhaps I’ll have to hang on to all three books for the moment and start all over again because sometimes books are simply too seductive to allow themselves the luxury of travel.
Sorry much-loved kids, you’ll have to wait a little longer.