The Fair

My conclusion, after selling lots of books at a Lutheran church in May, sitting for two boring hours at B. Dalton, selling dibs and dabs at various venues, and talking with people for six exhausting hours at the Lane County Fair today, is that You Never Know. Therefore, you should not feel stupid for taking 25 books to the Oregon Christian Writers workshop and selling only two or, conversely, taking 18 to the Lutheran church and selling 79.

The Lane County Fair always has an Oregon Authors table and I was invited to join them this year but was warned that the table is back in the corner and people don't sell many there.

Well, it so happened that the warning was wrong. I signed up for six hours to make it worthwhile plus today was Senior Citizens Day--a happy combination, and every writer's dream. I was so busy talking with people that I never had time to eat lunch and probably missed some sales when I ran back out to the car for more books.

For the first three hours I was seated between Bob Welch and Joe Blakely. Then Bob left and was replaced with Shirley Tallman, who has seven children, so she and I had lots to talk about, except people kept coming so fast we could hardly say two sentences without being interrupted.

Writing is a strange thing, done in solitude and silence, and then your work goes out into the big world and takes on a life of its own, making a difference in the thoughts and emotions and lives of people you have never seen.

I am still trying to process all that, after talking to hundreds of people today.

A few Dibs and Dabs:

Six people said I look much younger than they expected. One said, "I've always pictured you as a white-haired old lady."

Two people said, "So is that your mother who writes the Letter from Harrisburg?"

Three people said they thought I'd be much bigger.

One person turned to Joe Blakely and said, "Are you Mr. Smucker?"

Three people asked if I'm related to the jam-and-jelly Smuckers.

Three women were in tears telling me how they appreciate my writing. One then turned to talk to Bob Welch who is good, she said, but doesn't make her choke up.

One women talked for 15 minutes about her book which she wrote two years ago and has 400 pages and sells for $19.95 and is out in the trunk of the car and she'd be glad to go get me a copy.

I sold 48 books. You never know.

Quote of the Day:
"What an image that was, seeing Dorcas Smucker with a cell phone."
--Bob Welch, who finds it hard to reconcile his image of Mennonites with cell phones, Reeboks, and such