Happy Endings

Yesterday I shared the intro to The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain, and I hinted that the ending would be dismal because it is written by a Frenchman.
That is what I've come to expect with French books and movies. They don't count on a happy ending.
My family jokes that a movie may be considered a French comedy if only a few people die.
So imagine my surprise when I finished the book and found an untypical ending for a French book. Quite optimistic, actually.

The author photo from Amazon

And that surprised me.
So I can happily recommend that you read The Red Notebook. The writing, even though translated into English, is quite beautiful. The plot is simple but compelling.
Even more surprising, I received an email from the author today.  Antoine Laurain had seen my post:

Sometimes i dropped an eye on the web. I've seen your post about my novel the red notebook. Thank's a lot... I'm not like usual french writer, it's a good ending story ;)

So that's two pleasant revelations that I received yesterday.

Tuesday Intros -- The Red Notebook

Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.
I'm all in with the Paris in July meme this month, I'm starting on my third book set in France -- The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain. Because this is a book by a French author translated into English, I don't expect it to end well. Happy endings don't often go with French books or movies, but so far I'm sucked in to the story of Laure, a woman who has her purse stolen and ends up in a coma, and a

bookseller named Laurent who finds the purse and belongings on the street and begins to trace the story of the unknown woman. Here's the intro:

The taxi had dropper her at the corner of the boulevard. She was barely fifty metres from home. The road was lit by streetlamps which gave the buildings an orange glow, but even so she was anxious, as she always was when she returned late at night. She looked behind her but she saw nobody. Light from the hotel opposite flooded the pavement between the two potted trees flanking its entrance. She stopped outside her door, unzipping her bag to retrieve her keys and security fob, and then everything happened very quickly.

A hand grabbed her bag strap, a hand that had come out of nowhere, belonging to a dark-haired man wearing a leather jacket. It took only a second for fear to travel through her veins all the way to her heart where it burst into an icy rain.

I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else is reading.