all creatures great and small

The discussion about favourite authors (the ones we read, not the ones we worked with) came up in a conversation once, while we were driving back from lunch. It was the radio’s fault, probably; it was talking about the Big Bad Wolf book sale. 

‘I like James Herriot,’ said Jenna, when Mei asked who hers was. 

I drew a complete blank at the name. ‘I don’t think I know him, sorry.’

Disbelief radiated from both the passenger side and the back seat. I wasn’t sure whether it was because he was a very popular author, or it was because I was disabusing their notion that I was very well-read. I concentrated on the road instead. 

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