Who doesn’t wonder about a long-lost love? Especially when life has got you down, and you’re wondering where and how your life took such a wrong turn. . . .
You pull out some old love letters, and you wonder: will they make me cringe, or was he really the dreamboat I thought he was?
And then. . . because we can, we Google him.
Five years later, and Samantha is married (after a fairytale wedding in California) and living with her adorable Jean-Luc and his two children in southern France. She’s still stumbling over her French conjugations (who isn’t?) and coming into her own as a writer, wife and stepmom. It’s tailor-made for a romantic comedy starring, oh, who knows, Reese Witherspoon? Julia Roberts? Just saying.
Samantha and I had big plans to meet up in southern France in September. I was eager to meet somebody who felt like my younger, crazier little sister. After all, I felt like I knew her after I just finished her memoir. I even stole some slippers from my hotel to give her and Jean-Luc as a belated wedding gift!
But toward the end of an entire month in France, you can lose track of what day it is (hmmm, too many wine tastings?). Samantha and I missed our planned connection in Montauban, but that didn’t stop us from sharing a happy hour together on Google Hang-Out after I trained back to Paris. I had a good bottle of Bordeaux to finish before I had to return to Chicago, but thanks to Samantha, I didn’t have to drink alone!
I’m here to tell you that Samantha is the real deal. She’s funny and honest and brave, just like in the book. She’d be a great author for your book club to Skype with, if you can figure out the time difference!
So for all those book clubs out there looking for a really fun conversation starter: pick Seven Letters From Paris for your next book club, and trust me, you’ll have late-into-the-night chats about your own long-lost loves. (Hmmm, whatever happened to that French-Canadian firefighter you met on a ski trip in college?)
I’m happily married, but what the heck. Maybe even I’ll start Googling. . . .
Seven Letters From Paris: Highly recommended