adverb: in the past : formerly

Several weeks ago I truly believed that I had met my soul mate. He sat down next to me, holding a banana and a Grande Starbucks cup. Check. Then I realized that we were reading the very same article (about Brad Paisley), from the very same magazine (the New Yorker), from three months ago (that’s the kicker). I spoke to him, we laughed, said that was “like, random,” and those 30 seconds were it. I might be hopeless.

So today’s Daily Candy newsletter gave me a bit of a lift. “10 Guy Writers We’d Like to Cozy Up With.” Sweet! I guess if you can’t find a guy, the next best thing might be to get a good book written by one.

I liked Daily Candy’s introduction to their Fall literary round-up: “Forget the idea that male writers are shy, sensitive souls. We think they’re like wrestlers: They coax us to a ringside seat; butt heads with bad grammar; and spin, slam, and twist plots until they come to dizzying finishes. Here, ten guy-produced books that will keep you mesmerized this fall.”

Erstwhile hopeless, now literary lush.