Tag: Christian Fiction

 

 

Yesterday I went to our small downtown, here in Titusville, to the Book Rack for Florida Bookstore Day. I packed twenty-seven Florida Springs Trilogy books in an Office Depot cart. I should have ordered the extra three earlier because they didn’t come in time for the book signing.

I arrived after the other four writers did, partly because I had to go back in and change my clothes for warmer weather. It was good that I arrived when I did – my station was down at the end and the only one that had a lovely shade tree growing overhead. As the day wore on several beautiful leaves fell onto my table.

I unloaded the car, using Rebekah Lyn’s cart to wheel my card-table and two chairs to the site. It must have been a funny sight for the people across the street, but I didn’t look to see if anyone was watching. The cart was out of control as it wove down the sidewalk, the table slid off, and the two pillows under my arm slid too.

While I was getting set up, my good friend, from China, came to see me. I’d put on Facebook that I would be there. She lives a busy life working up to three part time jobs and has a husband and daughter that she tends to very well, so we don’t get to see each other often. We chatted while I set out the books, then she went to get her seven-year-old- daughter who was at the community theater a block over taking acting lessons. She brought her over and I was so glad to see her.

There weren’t many people downtown, but there was a lot of action as our town was having a food truck wars that evening, with fifty food trucks. Have you heard about them? It’s almost like a carnival with the huge semi-trucks and trailers roaring by to find their places.

Two radio stations set up their music stages so close to each other you knew they were going to blast everyone to deafness. I hoped we’d be gone before they started up.

At noon, Bill came down and had an egg salad sandwich I’d packed for him. He talked to the man next to us who said his Indie book, about hiking the Appalachian Trail, had been picked up by a publishing company, but he was so busy marketing it, he didn’t have time to write any more.

One man stood at each table and read everything except the books slowly and carefully. He looked different. He had wavy, grizzled hair, glasses, and pants that puckered at the waist where his belt was. I couldn’t place him until his friend came by decidedly dirty and homeless. The friend spoke in a loud voice about the Titusville ghost, whom I have never met, nor even heard about before. I definitely did not want to hear about him now. Lacking an audience, the second man rambled away.

I got up and gave the first man one of my cards because he looked so desperate for something to read and I knew that feeling. He then started on a soliloquy about the bookstore business. His parents had been in that field. I was interested the first three times I heard his story, and I wanted to be nice to him, but then I wanted to escape and Bill helped me out in his own courteous and kindly way by drawing my attention away.

Pam bought huge cups of iced tea for each of us which went down a treat, and we chatted as we slipped across the street into the back of a restaurant where their restroom was. I am a customer, just not that day. I also got some time in with Pam’s daughter, Jen, but I was too busy to talk much with the other writers who were all men, except for Rebekah Lyn.

Then it was time to pack up and go home. Bill helped me lug all the paraphernalia across the street to the car. I took home all twenty-seven books, but I wasn’t the least bit down or disappointed. I’d had a fine day with “family” and meeting a few new people, the weather was beautiful and I was satisfied with my life. I’ll sell some books someday another way. I’m sure of it.

Psalm 118:24

New Living Translation
This is the day the LORD has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.