Yogi Berra,
who died the day before yesterday, once said, “Always make sure you go to the
funerals of others, because if you don’t, they won’t come to yours.”
Book
signings are next-of-kin to non-denominational funeral services. People say
nice things about you and mispronounce your names, and something you liked is
read. Afterwards, there’s a get-together someplace nearby and people drink wine
and eat potato chips.
So the
book signing for The
Fortunate Few went well and the book sold out. I was grateful for all the good
folks who attended, and surprised by the non-response and no-show of some friends
whose events I had gone to. There were posters of the book’s cover with my name
in BIG LETTERS. The five rows of folding chairs were quickly filled. I got to
talk a little bit about the genesis of the book, answer some questions about
the volunteers and IVS, the organization I wrote about. I signed a bunch of
fly-leafs with a barely legible hand. And I accepted (humbly, of course) the
congratulations of colleagues. Then a bunch of us went to a small after-signing
party hosted by my writer-friend Lori. This
was writing life at its best.
It was
fun. One More Page Books is an
ideal setting for signings. It’s a real bookstore, meaning it primarily sells
books, and it’s also a center for the local writing crowd. Hopefully, some of
the people who’d never been there before will go again. I’m already planning
the signing for my next book, Dope.
More will be revealed.
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