Every now and again I like to read a novella. It feels like a break from my regularly scheduled reading — that which is either for work or pleasure. A vacation from the vacation. I love the word novella. And I find the notion of the novella somehow romantic and nostalgic. Some of my favorites include The Light in the Piazza (1960) by Elizabeth Spencer, Gigi (1944) by Colette and The Diamond as Big as the Ritz (1922) by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I’ve just finished reading Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris (1958) by Paul Gallico, an incredibly prolific writer probably best known for The Snow Goose (1941) and The Poseidon Adventure (1969). Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris, apparently quite popular in its day, tells the story of London charwoman Mrs. Ada Harris who dreams of traveling to Paris to the House of Dior. Completely charming, just as I suspected.