Family time in La Ciotat: Nephew Payne, girlfriend Maddi, Jackie, Ana, Max, my sister Heidi and my niece Reagan. Don’t miss today’s story!

MERCI!
A heartfelt merci to those who have ordered a copy of A YEAR IN A FRENCH LIFE! Four weeks after publishing, over 500 books have found their way into readers’ hands. If you haven’t yet picked up a copy, please know that every order makes a difference—not only in supporting this lifelong devotion, French Word-A-Day, but also in helping new readers discover it. Click here to order a copy for yourself or a friend. Your support means the world!

TODAY’S WORD
Help find the word of the day. After reading the entry, suggest a French word that best summarizes the theme of this story. You may pick from the vocabulary list, below, or come up with one of your own. 

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

I was hanging out laundry to dry on the line when the sonnette rang. Hurrying around the side of the house, I opened the front gate to our smiling postman.

“Bonjour, un colis pour vous.”

Looking at the giant box, it dawned on me—my cardboard envelopes had arrived! All two hundred of them. At last, I could begin shipping out my new book via mail order.

Lugging the box over to the picnic table, I tore it open eagerly—only to find the envelopes much smaller than expected. Zut! I rushed inside to grab a copy of my book, A Year in a French Life. But the moment I held it up to the envelope, it was obvious it wouldn’t fit. The length and height were correct, but I hadn’t taken into account the width of the book!

Punaise! I didn’t want to haul that box back to the post office and wait in line. Instead, I tried—vainly—to push the book into the narrow envelope. But when the corner threatened to tear, I relented. Mince! I’d have to send them back and order the larger size, which would cost readers extra for postage… if the package tipped the scale past 500 grams.

I bee-lined to the kitchen to weigh the envelope and book on my digital scale (normally used to weigh flour). 498 grams. They may be too small, but they’re the right weight. What if I cut the envelope lengthwise? I could slip in the book and seal the side shut… but there’d be a gap beneath the tape. It might be better to go back to paper envelopes, however flimsy. No, a dented, mangled book was no way to begin what I hoped would be a flourishing mail-order business.

There was no way around it—I’d have to order the larger size and have readers pay twice the shipping price. But would they? (Would you, dear reader?)

If only I had thought about the length of the book before publishing it! I should have kept it at under 300 pages! That would’ve solved everything.

I stared at my dog, Ricci, trying to figure out what to do next. If only I could rip out a few pages—those useless blanks at the back. How much did those weigh? Out of curiosity, I tore them out: .9 grams per page.

Ricci groaned as if reading my thoughts…two blank pages weren’t going to cut it. Besides, wouldn’t that look tacky? Buyers might think that they’d received a used book. 

I could very carefully scissor out the prologue? Estimated at 8 precious grams, the beginning of the book amounted to a backstory on how Mom ended up living with us in France. (On second thought, this section needs to stay.)

What about ripping out the hefty Acknowledgements at the back of the book? Ricci, reading my mind, sighed, “Quelle ingrate!” She’s right. I didn’t want to be ungrateful—or sloppy, which is exactly how this convoluted quick fix could end up.  

A box cutter could make a tidy, close-to-the-spine coupure—allowing for a swift, multi-page removal. Of course, if the book suddenly jumped from page 206 to 212, that might be noticeable. Best to stick to the front pages, which use les chiffres romains. The entire Introduction could go—pages xi through xv. There! That ought to tip the postal scale in my favor. Finally—an economic solution to this shipping conundrum.

All that remained was a logistical problem: there were two hundred books to “trim.” Luckily my family, now visiting from Denver, could lend a hand. After hiking the trail to Cassis, touring Aix-en-Provence, a night out on the old port in La Ciotat, and a boat ride with Jean-Marc, they’ll be happy to help form a production—or “reduction”—line: my sister Heidi can rip out the front pages, nephew Payne can weigh the book, his girlfriend, Maddi, can adjust the weight by pasting pages back into the book (if need be), and niece Reagan will finish with a careful inspection of the slimmed down version of A Year in a French Life.

Max, Ana, and Jackie can be in charge of damage control, or service après-vente—for, no matter how sympathetic and supportive my readers are, there’s bound to be a few disgruntled bookworms who prefer a complete copy and not one that’s been doctored (or “doc” “torn” if you get what I mean).

The mail clerk mentioned postage rates rising on April 10th, so we’d better get cracking. It’s already the 1st, April Fools’ Day—otherwise known in France as Poisson d’avril! Better hurry and order your book before rates go up—and I “edit” any more pages from your copy! 😂

 

COMMENTS

Did you fall for this year’s story? Let me know in the comments 🙂
Also, can you offer a French words that summarizes today’s story? (Comment here)

 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

la sonnette = doorbell

un colis = a package

Zut! = Darn!

Punaise! = Darn! (softer than Zut!)

le livre = book

Mince! = Darn! (softer than Zut! and Punaise!)

Quelle ingrate! = What an ungrateful person!

la coupure = cut, trimming

le kilo = kilogram

les chiffres romains (m) = Roman numerals

le service après-vente

le poisson d’avril = April Fools’ joke

Note: In France, April Fools’ Day is called Poisson d’Avril (April Fish). A common prank is to tape a paper fish onto someone’s back without them noticing. The origins of this tradition are unclear, but some believe it dates back to the 16th century when France switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar, and those who continued celebrating the new year in April were playfully mocked.

REMERCIEMENTS Special thanks to readers who support this weekly letter via a donation. Your contribution helps so much and keeps this weekly letter going!

Chrise T.

Martha C.

Robert H.

Jennifer T.

I got your book on Amazon. It’s lovely. —Jennifer T.

Je profite beaucoup de lire vos histoires. —Robert H.

 

Thanks, Max, for this photo of Cassis, where you and Jackie took your cousins. Pictured above this one: a family lunch on the patio, and a hike in the hills above La Ciotat.