Sometimes a Book Finds Its Reader

Today, something quietly meaningful happened in my little print shop.

A professor of law from the Université de Montréal came in to print a large stack of immigration documents. Judging by the number of papers and the careful way he checked every page, I guessed he was going through an important immigration process himself.

While the printer was working, he noticed a copy of my novel, Les Lignes de l’Amitié: Chroniques d’un enfant, de la solitude à la confiance (Les Mondes de Papier), resting on the counter.

He picked it up.

At first, he simply turned a few pages.

Then he smiled.

After reading several passages, he looked at me and said something that stayed with me.

He told me that, as a native French speaker, he could tell that many of my sentences were not completely idiomatic. Some expressions were unusual. He even pointed to a sentence like « William resta figé… ».

Then he smiled again.

"But," he added, "there is something very poetic about the way you write."

I appreciated his honesty.

As someone who learned French as an adult, I know my writing will never sound exactly like that of a novelist who grew up speaking French. Every book teaches me something new, but I also know there are limits to how much polishing can change the voice of a writer.

What surprised me was what happened next.

He bought the book.

That simple gesture meant more to me than praise alone.

It told me that although my French may still carry traces of another language, the story itself had reached him.

Before leaving, our conversation drifted from novels to publishing.

He told me he is considering publishing one of his academic works through Amazon KDP and asked how much it costs.

I smiled and answered:

"Publishing itself is free. The only real expense is if you decide to order author copies—and even those are quite affordable."

He seemed pleasantly surprised.

He said he might need my help in the future.

I couldn't help smiling.

Life is full of unexpected connections.

This morning, he came to my shop to print immigration documents.

A few minutes later, we were discussing independent publishing, books, and Amazon KDP.

That is one of the things I love most about this little neighborhood print shop.

People come here for passports, posters, business cards, immigration paperwork, family photos...

And sometimes, without planning it, they leave carrying a story.

Or perhaps a new idea.

Or perhaps the beginning of a new book.