Vulpes Libris

A collective of bibliophiles talking about books. Book Fox (vulpes libris): small bibliovorous mammal of overactive imagination and uncommonly large bookshop expenses. Habitat: anywhere the rustle of pages can be heard.


Moira has lots of terribly impressive qualifications that she’s never used. The only reason she went on to further education was because it saved her from having to decide what she wanted to do with her life. She’s still thinking about it, but in the meantime manages a small charity in the Lake District ( which she insists she’s only doing until she finds a ‘proper job’. As she’s been there for over 20 years now and hasn’t put in one single job application anywhere else, no-one who knows her is holding their breath … She even writes a blog about her ‘in the meantime’ job, and cynics might say it has a certain air of – well – permanence about it.

Her personal life is virtually non-existent*, her social life runs it a very close second and her working life lurches from mundane to surreal all in the space of eight hours. One day, when all the people who would have grounds to sue her are dead, she’ll write that vaguely autobiographical book she keeps threatening, but until then she pours her meagre talents into slightly anarchic newsletters, press releases and her very own page in the local Parish News.

Her taste in reading matter tends towards non-fiction, which probably explains why she has a head stuffed full of completely useless information, regurgitated once a year in the form of a Trivia Quiz so insanely difficult that it makes strong men weep – which is really, secretly, what she likes doing best in the whole world (making strong men weep, not producing trivia quizzes – although that too has its moments …)

She writes poetry extremely badly, embroiders beautifully, can’t arrange flowers to save her life and loves her cordless electric drill-driver to bits. (There’s a joke in there about drills and bits, if anyone can be bothered to look for it …)  Given the opportunity, she goes for long walks all by herself because it saves her from having to make polite conversation.

She also has a deeply misleading habit of talking about herself in the third person.

(If you really want to know more about her, you’ll find an interview with her here.)


There is a rumour that she once sent back a love letter with the spelling and syntax corrected in red ink.  If true, this would explain a lot …



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  • (The header image is from Aesop's Fables, illustrated by Francis Barlow (1666), and appears courtesy of the Digital and Multimedia Center at the Michigan State University Libraries.)
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