Are those for me?

No, is the short answer. They were not.

It was just not very easy at all to work out why someone had sent me 31 books, two each of fifteen titles and one single title. Even if I feel enthusiastic about reviewing, this looked like overkill. It looked like a load of books for a bookshop.

I started my investigation, because I suspected someone somewhere was not only missing their 31, but staring in bafflement at the five (?) that were really meant for me. Or perhaps my five went somewhere different again.

The invoice was mine, but the titles looked unfamiliar, so I had no idea why I wanted them. One looked so Swedish (albeit in English) that I felt a bit funny about it.

Someone connected to the 31 slowly sorted things out. At least I think they did. I was asked to pack the 31 and have them ready for collection. And I was promised my five books. When the five arrived, the penny dropped. I had asked for them. I just didn’t know the titles, and there was no author mentioned on the invoice.

(He is Ulf Stark, a Swedish author, who will be coming my way later this year. Hopefully. And the books were there to educate me.)

All that remained was for the others to be reunited with their expectant owners.

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