She stopped typing. If she'd been using pen and paper, she would have screwed the paper up in disgust, but there wasn't a satisfying equivalent with email. Seeing that everything was designed to stop you making a mistake. She needed a fuck-it key, something that made a satisfying ka-boom noise when you thumped it.
If one were to imagine, for the sake of argument, that jigsaw pieces had thoughts and feelings, then it was possible to imagine them saying to themselves, 'I'm going to stay here. Where else would I go?' And if another jigsaw piece came along, offering its tabs and blanks enticingly in an attempt to lure one of the pieces away, it would be easy to resist temptation. 'Look,' the object of the seducer's admiration would say, 'you're a piece of a phone booth, and I'm the face of Mary, Queen of Scots. We just wouldn't look right together.' And that would be that.
I just finished reading Nick Horbny's "Juliet, Naked" and I loved it. Reading Nick Hornby is like reading into someone's head, understanding the character's perspective, rationale and thoughts, that are both believable and endearing in their own ways although they are not always likeable. The topics he covers are not at all groundbreaking, but they are dramatic in a way that each of us think that our own problems are dramatic. It's day-to-day life in all its simplicity yet extreme, because the main character is always a bit neurotic.
I'm going to visit the library tomorrow to look at some more books to borrow. I've enjoyed reading Tom Perrotta and Curtis Sittenfeld too, so maybe I'll check out their other books. Has anyone read David Mitchell?
Oh, by the way, those were two of my favorite quotes from "Juliet, Naked". There are many more, I'm sure. Sometimes I wonder, how do good authors get to come up with beautiful sentences like that? We are given the same words, yet some of us just have the talent to impeccably string them together 'til we hardly know where it came from.