Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Jodi Picoult is Haunting my Every Step

I've never read a Jodi Picoult novel. I have no plans to do so at this point, either. Nothing against Jodi, or anything, I just have lots of other books on my list of priority reading ahead of her, most of which I probably won't get around to reading either. However, this hasn't stopped Jodi Picoult from haunting my every step.

It began a couple weeks ago when I spied an ad in a DC comic book for her run as writer on Wonder Woman.

Ah, Jodi Picoult, I thought. I've shelved many of her books in the past. Can't name a title off the top of my head, but the name is familiar.

For some reason, though, this bit of information stayed in my brain, bobbing up and down to the surface of my thoughts.

Picoult. Picoult. Picoult.

Last week, I happened to be shelving a Picoult tome when Mrs. C passed me.

"She's the new writer of Wonder Woman," I told Mrs. C, holding up the Picoult in question.

"Oh, really?"


"They're really getting some big names in as comic writers these days," she said.

"Well, for that matter, Brad Meltzer is the writer of Justice League," I offered.

Mrs. C seemed suitably impressed.

Days passed.

Picoult. Picoult. Picoult.

On Monday, at the gym, I was elliptical machining while listening to Wordballoon, a comics-based podcast, in which writer Greg Rucka (another novelist turned comics scribe) was being interviewed. He was lamenting his brief run on the title of Wonder Woman, last year, stating that he thought he had a pretty good take on the character but that DC doesn't seem to want to follow up on some of the threads he started. Not that he had anything against the fine work of Jodi Picoult, or anything.

Picoult. Picoult. Picoult.

Later in the day, during my "liberry" solo Monday shift, a patron turned in three or four Jodi Picoult books which I then had to shelve.

Picoult. Picoult. Picoult.

Toward the end of my shift, while calling patrons with books on hold, I phoned a lady to tell her about a Mary Higgins F ' ing Clark that we had for her.

PATRON— While I've got you on the line, there's this other author I want to see if you have.

ME— Okay.

PATRON— Oh, let me think. I can't remember her first name and I can't pronounce her last name. It's P-I-C-O-U-L-T?

ME— Jodi Picoult?

PATRON— Yeah, that's her! Do you know her? Have you read anything by her?

ME— No. But I've had several of her books circulate here today, though.


At this point, my only guess is that either the Synchronicity Fairy is on a serious Jodi Picoult bender or the universe is trying to tell me I should read some Jodi Picoult. If history is any teacher, I'll continue to ignore this cosmic message. I had a very similar synchronicity attack with Anne Tyler's Saint Maybe, a few years back, in which the book itself kept following me, turning up in the oddest places, whispering, siren-like, in an effort to get me to read it. I never did. Still too much priority reading ahead of it.



Lisa said...

Um, my co-worker mentioned J.P. at dinner -- under the heading "authors whose names we are uncertain about pronouncing."

Juice S. Aaron said...

Greg Rucka pronounced it "Pickole," as would the French.

Anonymous said...

Ergh. Jodie Pick-cool. So very overrated. I've read three of her books. The overly sensational subject matter and character recycling were enough to ensure I shall never read a fourth.


Ponytail said...

Forget Jodi Picoult, dull, dull, dull. On the other hand, please read "Saint Maybe". One of the few 'happy' endings Anne Tyler has written and yet it still made me want to cry. I consider that writing of a high standard.

An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.