Download e-book for iPad: A Year in Fife Park by Quinn Wilde
By Quinn Wilde
Quinn Wilde spends a formative 12 months learning on the collage of St. Andrews, Scotland, and residing in Fife Park, the most cost effective pupil place of abode within the united kingdom. alongside the best way, there are blunders and fake pas, damages and destruction, passions and revelations, longing and belonging, love, secret, tragedy, appreciate, and only a tiny bit of intercourse.
"One of the easiest home-grown comedies of this yr, a true campus-themed gem."
"This first-time writer is admittedly one to monitor. His booklet is generously provided and generously priced. I recommend you gift him by way of analyzing it."
"A strangely compelling novella, which I chewed via in one laugh-out-loud sitting."
"If you have been to college, and do not realize 1/2 this booklet, then you definately have not particularly been to University."
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Extra info for A Year in Fife Park
Literally, right now, I’m thirty, I’m at my desk, in my flat, in Edinburgh, and I’m trying to remember being twenty, because I think there was something worth knowing back then. Something worth feeling, at any rate. You remember how I came in on that? Now, I know what you’re thinking, if you’re thinking at all, and if you’re anything like me. How do I know that what I am searching for was ever really there? You’re wondering, maybe, if I’ve deluded myself about the wonderful year I spent in Fife Park.
No,’ she said. ‘And neither have you. ’ ‘I’ve got to worry about Psychology, first,’ I told her. ‘Fucking stats is my kryptonite. ’ ‘Better than yours,’ she said. ‘Saw the dick in English yesterday. ’ ‘No, fool. ’ We sipped our tea, slurping a little at the same time. She laughed. I took another biscuit. ‘I remember the first night I knew you guys were in trouble,’ I said. ’ ‘Yeah, well. That was the first night I knew. ’ ‘Like a Bond villain? ’ ‘Yeah, but you still went through all the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.
ID of my own. I made up my name from the side of a bottle of tonic water that was sitting on my desk, and then got down to some abuse of the service. It was liberating enough, but I could never get any conviction into my insults, and it didn’t feel like me, so I gave up and started to take it all seriously, instead. ‘You are such a fucking jerk,’ people would tell Frank. ‘I am the Eggman,’ Frank would say, if he was feeling mellow. Then he’d light up and put on a few tracks. Sometimes we’d hear Craig screaming wild obscenities from his room.
A Year in Fife Park by Quinn Wilde