I was tagged for a meme by my dear friend Karen Hoover and I swear I will do the tag on my next post, but it’s late and I have a hard time being clever when I feel wiped out.
I just got back from speaking at a writer’s group in Ephraim. Talk about rolling out the red carpet! They had my name advertised on the town marquee, they fed me a fabulous dinner, they provided me with excellent conversation, they gave me a wicked cool gift basket and laughed at my jokes. What a great crowd. I had a blast. Shirley Bahlmann had invited me to come speak to their group and am I ever glad I did! I’m tempted to move just so I could have a cool writer’s group like Shirley’s.
What was really awesome? I signed a lot of books, not the brand-new, never-been-read kind . . . but the worn, ragged-edged, crinkly-paper-from-being-around-a-bathtub kind.
There is a truly awe inspiring feeling that overcomes an author (well . . . this author anyway) to hold a worn out and much used book in your hands with a smiling fan standing in front of you asking you to sign it. The book is loved. Every scuff and bent page is significant. The book is proof that somewhere along the way, this reader and this author had a communication open between them. Even though the author wrote those words months and sometimes years previously, and the reader read them months and sometimes years previously, and even though the author and reader had never met before this one moment, they understand something about one another.
When I sign the new books, it’s different. The reader hasn’t read the book yet. They don’t know if they like it or not yet. I don’t know if they’ll ever crack the spine (that sounds gruesome, doesn’t it . . . crack the spine?).
But a book that has been read and reread, I know that the reader has pieces of me fused into their hearts. I know that they like things similar to what I like. And when they ask me to sign a book that they obviously loved, they are saying that they feel I did my job well. It’s the best kind of pat on the back.
Yep . . . I love what I do. Thank you Ephraim!
awh julie!
this is great. i love how you pointed out that you cherish this more. you rooo-oock sweetie. your post sure made me grin. peace, kathleen xo
I used to live in Ephraim. I loved it there.
I love Shirley, too.
I’ll move to Ephraim if you will.
I love this post.
Let’s be best friends. (K?)
You’re so right about the used books and yet I hadn’t thought about it before. It’s kind of the velveteen rabbit theory isn’t it? And I’m so glad you had a good time, what a great experience. No one deserves their name in lights more than you do
This is great! One good signing can really make writing all seem worthwhile.
What a truly wonderful feeling that must be!
What Josi said–every bit of it. I love the Velveteen Rabbit comparison–and the few times I’ve had the chance to sign a beat-up copy, it warmed my heart.
makes me regret my not taking my battered Card books to LTUE for Scott to sign. I was actually embarrassed at the condition they were in…so I left them home. thanks for the lesson. i need to catch up with you soon. ♥
SO great! Your name on the marquee! Sigh.
Regarding the end of your blog- the bit about signing books that have been read: what a beautiful way to look at it! Though if I met someone that was fused with me and loved my book enough that I was a part of them, I think that would make me uncomfortable. Then again, if I ever had to meet myself, I’d *definitely* be uncomfortable so there you go.
I’m sure they LOVED you, Julie. I’m going to Ephraim in the fall . . . maybe I can say “I know Julie” and everyone will come
Julie! How totally awesome! It sounds like you had such a wonderful night. And I love what you said about the worn-out books. Sounds a lot like your books sitting on my bookshelf.