The Afternoon I Walked Into The Bookstore And Remembered My Magic


This is a journal entry I had every intention of posting back in September, but you know how intentions go. Better late than never...

"Sandra Cisneros is a beautiful writer--one of my inspirationals. As I've been thinking about becoming a writer I keep going back to Cisneros, reflecting on the poetry and honesty and melodic jangle of her prose. I've been longing for her words and found myself wishing more than once that I had brought her book The House on Mango Street with me to Korea. I passed by a dusty hole-in-the-wall bookstore in Sinchon yesterday. Curious, I walked inside to find a maze of used books--piled on tables, on floors, haphazard. I literally crawled and tripped over these literary cairns to reach the far back corner of the store where a few shelves and a couple of card tables boasted some old English paperbacks and esoteric medical dictionaries. I browsed for about 15 minutes...picked up a copy of Pride and Prejudice which I decided, in the end, to put back on the shelf. Also picked up The Grapes of Wrath and tucked it under my arm. As I was about to leave, I realized that the bookshelf I had been looking through slid to the side, revealing yet another bookshelf of paperbacks. Almost immediately after discovering this hidden bookshelf my eyes landed on a battered spine reading The House on Mango Street. I couldn't believe my luck! Of all the improbable places in the world, I find Cisneros' book sitting on a forlorn shelf in a used bookstore in Seoul, Korea. The words that I've been longing for, the rhythm I've rolled over in my mind for the past two weeks magically appeared in Sinchon. It was as if the book was waiting there just. for. me. I bought it for three bucks, The Grapes of Wrath for two and called it a day."

Three months later I still shake my head at this. Magic blows into my life and swirls through my days with eery consistency. At this point, I'm nearly convinced I can manifest anything in the most literal of ways.