11 Stellar Irish Novels
And the serendipitous reading experience that started it all
Three years ago, on a dreary and gray Sunday at the end of January, Dean and I decided to take an impromptu day trip out of the city. When you live in Manhattan, a certain thrill comes with leaving the boundaries of Manhattan, even if for eight hours.
We headed north to New Haven, where we spent the day visiting the museums at Yale, tucking into warm bowls of noodles at the local pho shop, and browsing the numerous new and used bookstores that dot the campus perimeter.
After lunch, we stopped by my favorite, Atticus, for a warm coffee and a browse. At the front of the store, they had a blind date with a book display. I love browsing these displays but rarely buy anything from them for fear that I a) have already read the book and b) I won't like the book.
However, the description hooked me this time. So, I purchased the book. After I paid, I tore into it on the street outside and was delighted to find a novel I had never heard of. A few days later, I came down with a hideous cold and was couch-bound bound, where I tore through all 560 pages in a matter of days.