Sordid Secret Life of Beloved Children’s Author

Summary

A flea market book sale unravels into a scandal when a children's book with a forged signature is sold as a genuine autographed edition.

Abstract

While selling old paperbacks at a flea market, the narrator and their friend devise a scheme to increase the value of their books by forging author signatures, including personalized notes. They successfully sell these "autographed" editions at inflated prices until a child points out inconsistencies in the signature on an Enid Blyton book. The narrator concocts an elaborate excuse about the author's alleged substance abuse affecting her handwriting to maintain the ruse, despite the absurdity of the situation.

Opinions

The narrator and their friend view the act of forging signatures as a harmless way to increase profits.
The narrator seems to believe that adding personal touches to the forged signatures makes them more convincing and valuable.
There is a sense of irony and humor in the narrator's description of the situation, particularly in the face of being caught.
The narrator holds a dismissive attitude towards the authenticity of the signatures, prioritizing sales over honesty.
The narrator's partner is complicit in the deception but remains silent during the confrontation, leaving the narrator to handle the situation.

Revealing find in weekend market exposes unlikely truth

I was browsing through a pile of books this morning and found one of those “signed by author” copies.

It reminded me of the time I was helping out a friend who was selling a load of old paperbacks at a flea market. We were flogging ’em off for a buck each, and he said, “Pity they aren’t signed editions — we could triple the price and really clean up!”

I looked at the pen in his pocket, and said, “Righto!”

So we were showing to the punters that the author had autographed our copy of a book, often with endearing little personal touches. “To Elly-mae, so glad you didn’t name our son Winston! — George” on a tattered copy of 1984.

Three dollars for a piece of literary history. It was a steal, really. Some would try to talk us down to two bucks and we’d reluctantly agree.

All went well until some kid complained that the signature on their new secondhand copy of The Famous Five Are Very Naughty by Enid Blyton didn’t match the author’s taut bold signature printed right there on the cover.

“Ah, success had gotten to her by that stage in her career. She was heavily under the influence of absinthe and laudanum, as reflected in her careless signature and ridiculous plots,” I explained, glaring at my idiot partner, who shrugged.

Britni