k, lemme backtrack a li'l and explain why I'm wishing a (not really) sorry fate on some (not-so) hapless soul. (I actually gave this a day to see if I could be more philosophical about it, but it seems I can't. So please bear with the b*tchy rant.)
I lost my paperback copy of The Historian yesterday. I lost it in the first floor restroom of a downtown mall.
This is a big deal to me because I'm usually very careful of my books and I was truly, madly attached to this one for these personal reasons:
(1) My major was in history. Never mind of which country, I have actually done primary source research into a certain time window of the 19th century, so I can relate to the sifting through dusty archives bit that the characters in Kostova's The Historian do. (Though I don't call myself an historian, having given up research long before I could be damned and published.)
(2) I'd actually just finished a vampire anime (which, if you know me, is a feat) and I thought I was ready to tackle another fictional (?) excursion into the world of the undead.
(3) I bought it when it was still a new arrival in Kinokuniya, which meant a respectable twenty percent discount off the cover price and a good value Christmas 2006 present to myself.
Even though I purchased it almost a month ago, it was only in the past two days that I started reading The Historian with any sort of can't-put-it-down speed. Put this down to the fact that in spite of having finished Black Blood Brothers, this coward soul is still mine and I couldn't read the book when it wasn't daylight nor when I was alone at home.
So you can imagine just how devastated I was by its loss.
My hubby reasonably pointed out to me that it was my own fault for bringing the book around and thus paving the way to eventually losing it. (But after it took me almost a month to really get into the read, I should put it down? I don't think so.) I countered, as reasonably as I could, that my sin of forgetfulness in this case was minor, while her sin of theft (would you call it anything else?) was HUGE! I immediately went back to that restroom when I realized I didn't have the book with me, but those mere minutes were ample time for someone to abscond with my beloved copy of The Historian.
No amount of pleading for help from the cleaning service or the indifferent mall security slash Lost and Found staff would get it back for me.
Grr. Like I sed, whoever she was, I sincerely hope she gets terrified out of her skull—more than I ever was—by that book so that I'd feel better. I don't have it in me to be charitable at this point.
Is this all the Happy Even After ending I can anticipate? Well I went back to Kinokuniya (the branch in that mall was where I originally bought it) and the paperback versions were sold out; the only copy left was a hard cover one costing nearly IDR 400,000. I had to ask the staff to phone around to see which branch still had the paperbacks.
Before going home, I was able to pick up a new copy from the customer service staff of Kinokuniya Playan.
At its original cover price.
PS I will prolly regret all this b*tchiness but for now, lemme vent...