Confession time.
I have a thing about book spines. I don’t snap them, EVER. If anyone else does, I actually wince. Honest.
In Jane Airhead, would you believe that one of the characters thinks just like me…? Here, Charlotte is talking to her mum.
‘You’re an English teacher. You love metaphors and similes and past participles and … and … and syntax!’ she finished triumphantly. ‘You go ballistic if anyone breaks the spine of a book – even if doesn’t belong to you!’
‘Well … yes,’ agreed her mum, with a theatrical shudder. This was totally true. Rumour had it that she’d once whipped a book out of an unsuspecting pupil’s hands after they’d opened a paperback and – horror of horrors – wrenched back the covers so far that they touched. Mum insisted that the crack could be heard in London. Sixty miles away.
(Don’t tell anyone, but that’s me, that is. I’m the mum.)
I don’t mind if anyone else breaks the spines of their books, by the way. (Well, maybe a bit.) But if anyone breaks the spine of one of my books, well… Just DON’T try it, OK?

















