Category Archives: Big Stone Gap

Found in Translation…

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The lady translating my book from English to Korean emailed a few days ago with several questions. We had a good time sorting out idioms and idiosyncrasies, but I knew I was in trouble when HyoungEun emailed a second time to ask: In chapter 23, does “Fuquay Avenue” have something to do with porn? (Am I missing something here?) Or is it just the timing that made Mr Beck laugh so hard?

After cleaning up the coffee I’d spit across the keyboard, I reflected on why, in fact, Jack and I had laughed so hard. For those of you who haven’t read Little Bookstore, you’ve gotta get through Chapter 23 to know what we’re talking about. We couldn’t get outta that town fast enough. (Although I am reliably informed by a sweet reader who recognized her home turf that it has some really nice shopping AND a lovely Middle Eastern restaurant just a few streets over.)

Then, in an attempt to answer HyoungEun’s question, I sent her this response (I have replaced the word in question with ‘eff’ because, quite frankly, about every three days someone finds my blog by searching for “Fulton Ave Books” and “redheaded Wendy porn.” (I have NO idea!) I get enough porn-related search phrases as it is. It would be nice if Google and Yahoo would stop sending inquiring dirty minds my way. There are some lonely, unhappy weirdos out there, and I only wrote about Evansville once!)

HYOUNGEUN: Oh I’m laughing so hard my computer is shaking. Fuquay is a little too close to a word in English that is considered very vulgar. Eff means having sex but it connotes a rather joyless and loveless, merely physical, experience. Bored people and professional sex workers eff. The rest of us make love, or have sex. So Fuquay was a very French sounding way of saying eff and it was in the middle of those lovely mansions and spelled out on a wrought iron street sign, like it was trying to be really classy and wonderful, and it was just this street sex nasty term. (And totally unexpected, just after all those porn shops.) That’s why it made Jack laugh so hard.

HyoungEun sent back a swift response: Oh, of course I know what eff means! (Seen a lot of NC-17 movies. Ahem.) … I should’ve asked this from the start, cause I’ve been searching Google (and Yahoo and….etc.) the whole time and Google God failed me again! They say ‘If you are desperate, you go to Google result page2.’ I went much farther than ‘page2.’

That poor kid. What will the cookies on her computer be doing tomorrow? Will she have to explain anything to her boss? Call me if you need back-up, HyoungEun! I know what those search engines do. It ain’t pretty.

She was HOT! He kept his cool.

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Wes is our first call if we need a pinch-hitter for a day here or there in the bookshop. Those of you who read the blog regularly may remember that Wes married Rachael in a Quaker meeting at the bookstore last year.  IMG_3418He’s been invaluable while Jack’s in Scotland, because I’ve gotten tied up with some things at the college.

Today when I relieved him, a stack of J.A. Jance mysteries were sitting out of place on a counter top. Wes grinned when he saw me looking at them.

“Funny story about these,” he said, and launched.

A woman had come into the store with her daughter, who was the epitome of metrosexual beauty: lots of arm tattoos, her nose was pierced, and she wore a floral print mini-sundress.

“She was HOT!” Wes assured me, waving his hands in curves that, presumably, described the contours of her paisley pattern tattoo sleeves.

Hot Girl browsed classics while her mom surfed the mystery room. Mom emerged with the five Jance paperbacks, marked $3 each in good condition.

“That’s $15,” said Wes, smiling at the producer of Totally Hot Girl.

“What?” she shrieked. Wes, accustomed to people being impressed by our pricing, beamed, but Hot’s Mama continued, “I can get these cheaper someplace else!”

A few other customers in the store (who had also been admiring THG) began to studiously ignore what was going on. Hot Girl threw her mother an evil look.

Wes, however, has been hanging with Jack and me awhile now. With perfect dignity, he scooped the books from Hot’s Mama’s arms. “Then of course you should,” he said, bowing from the waist. “I’ll put these back for you.”

Out went Mom, back erect. Hot Girl waited until she left, then, according to Wes, “began grabbing classics randomly from the bargain bin. She bought $25 worth, and kept apologizing for her mom.”

Wes assured her it was not a problem. He invited her to come back anytime. “ANYTIME,” he emphasized, bagging her books. He probably carried them to the car for her.

It’s unusual that someone fusses about our prices–more unusual than a tattoo-wearing, flesh-piercing, breast-and-leg bearing Totally Hot Girl waking into our bookshop. Big Stone Gap isn’t as sleepy as people think.

And Wes? He’s looking forward to minding the store again tomorrow. I’ve told him my project at the college might take all week. He assures me this is not a problem.

Such a nice boy.