This book is about an actress who holds the world record for shortest adult. To put this on in context, I’ve included the whole paragraph below.
Fantasy is the art of not being picky.
MizB of Should Be Reading hosts Teaser Tuesday. Grab your current read, open to a random page, share a couple of “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page. Go see Should Be Reading for more detail.
We (a troupe of party clowns) were finished by five o’clock, packed up like gypsies heading for the road. I’d already begun to think of the job in these terms, for purposes of sanity, if nothing else. It was easier somehow to tell myself that this wasn’t Bel Air 1991 but Romania a century earlier (minus the pogroms), and we were all actors in a wandering troupe, plying our trade at a village fair. There ws grass beneath our feet, after all, and simple music of our own making, and a blue dome of sky above our heads. So what if the villagers were all the same age and the local noblewoman had a ridiculous hairdo? Fantasy is in the art of not being picky.
6 Responses to Maybe the Moon by Armistead Maupin p.50