Mr Ransom's book

Last night, I sent an email to Mr Ransom. 

Christopher is his first name. 

Distinguish feature about him: he likes Camper shoes. Funny article, Mr Ransom! ;-)

Achievement: Author of his first novel called The Birthing House. 

Well I don't know if he is going to reply to me. I hope he does because I have read his blog and he just sounds as funny/sarcastic as his book. 

As I said in the mail I sent him, his book is forever linked to a specific moment in time which in my case, rarely happens. It was on the 12th of May 2010. Why do I remember the date?
It was the day I took the ferry. I won't explain why I had to take it but let's just say I had to. 

So I crossed the Irish channel between Ireland and France. All I had with me was a car, a sleeping bag and a book. His book and an eighteen hours journey ahead of me. 

You think I was travelling with only one author? But I should actually correct that fact for you.
Luckily for me on this journey, two authors accompanied me : Him, Christopher Ransom and nothing less than Oscar Wilde himself. Well not exactly but whose gonna notice? 

What? Oscar Wilde is dead? 

Alright, then! I guess that was just the name of the Ferry but it mattered not! I was still travelling with two writers. I liked to think it was a sign. Any way, the Ferry departed around 20.00 p.m and I didn't go to sleep before quite a while.
I read a good bit of the book on that evening. Then I went to find my sleeping bag and tried to sleep. I felt a bit gloomy and my morale was low. To top the lot, it was rather difficult to sleep since the floor kept moving making a rumbling noise. But I guess that's what Ferries do.

Any way the next morning, I woke up watching this expedition anew. It was a bright blue day. Blue on blue actually. A blue sea meeting a blue sky. 

I had the most boring breakfast I ever had. I think it was a yogurt and some water and that was it. 

I went on the deck and enjoyed the moment. Except from the ripples and rolls from the Ferry turbines the sea was pretty calm. So I let the placid blue giant lifting me from one part of a land to another and took a deep breathe. I thought how taking the boat made the traveling so much stress less than the plane. You do get anywhere quicker by plane but the traveling experience is just not the same at all. I thought how this crossing could almost feel like a cruise. And it felt great to think that for a moment. It reminded of that series "the Love Boat" and that made me smile. People walked leisurely about the boat as if there were on holidays.
Around twelve, I ate and found a wooden bench on the deck exposed to the sun. I sat and congratulated myself. It was the perfect spot since it also sheltered me from the still cool sea breeze of May.
I opened the book, Mr Ransom's book and started reading away. I was getting to some heated parts which made me smile alone because well, I just didn't expect that in the book.
Every thing at that moment just got so perfect. I mean here I was in a perfect warm sunny day, the first ever sign of summer after a long very long winter, sitting on a warm

wooden bench, on a ferry enjoying the work of an unknown author who was no longer unknown to me and who, I should add, was able to surprise me.
Yes, Mr Ransom and I failed to mention this in my email, you managed to surprise me. I didn't expect anything and I got everything. I was entertained by the plot, by the writing, by your personality seeping through the book and that is what a good book is about.
Afterwards I thought how funny it was to think that this author was millions of miles away from me and yet also right there with me.

Any way that's all I wanted to say about that book and that author, which is quite a lot actually if I compare it to the other entries I wrote.
Good Night Ireland. Good Night America.