Paris, historically considered a city for writers. Where Hemingway, Henry Miller, and so many others found their inspiration and nourished their literary appetites. In modern day too, writers flock to the stillness and serenity of Paris, strolling the same streets and frequenting the same cafes as their much revered predecessors, pen and paper often being replaced by laptop or ipad. One of the many reasons I feel so lucky to live in Paris is not only for it’s writerly setting, but for it’s intimacy. I am fortunate enough to have met and even befriended several of Paris’ 21st century writers. Expats much like myself, living their dreams, and sharing them in written form.

While I have always collected books, (and struggled to read them all), now I too collect authors, becoming intertwined in their lives via their blogs and published work. My latest addition is Ann Mah’s Kitchen Chinese, a book I could not put down, now finding it’s place alongside David Lebovitz‘ The Sweet Life in Paris, Alexander Lobrano’s Hungry for Paris, and Heather Stimmler-Hall’s Naughty Paris: A Lady’s Guide to the Sexy City. All of these not merely authors I admire, but people I have gotten to know during our shared adventures of Paris. David Sedaris I had to include, though I cannot really consider him a friend, we did have a lengthy chat at one of his book signings. Considering he lives in Paris, maybe our paths shall cross again.

I am also fortunate to have friends whose books I shall one day add to my shelves, grateful to have known them before, during and after. Namely, Amy Thomas whose sweet tales of Paris and New York I can’t wait to savour, and Sion Dayson, who too has a riveting book in the works. There are others who for the moment shall remain nameless, added to my collection when they are ready to reveal their stories to the world. Perhaps I too shall be one of them.