Hi Reader,
I follow famous authors on social media. Why? Because I'm a masochist, maybe.
Every book release post is the same: a selfie of the smiling author with three hundred people holding his or her books in the background.
If you follow me on social media and haven't seen me posting photos with two hundred readers holding Noble Reckoning, don't worry. You didn't miss anything.
My family photographs my events. It takes a certain skill to set up a shot so it gives the impression that more people are in the crowd.
I'm in Calgary now. Tomorrow, I'll talk about my books to a few people. But last I checked, Calgary is in Canada, which means I can call this my "international" book tour.
Fact is, most of the bookstores and libraries are within a couple hours of my house.
Attendance has been good. Some events might even qualify as robust. Others? A tad underwhelming.
It can be humbling putting yourself out there.
You announce you're coming. The bookstore puts your name on the calendar. Maybe they even make a nice poster with your face on it.
Will anyone come?
Last Saturday, Kath and I drove almost four hours round trip to a bookstore in Nashua, NH.
Three readers showed up.
And guess what?
It was a blast. Great people. Great time. Almost worth the gas money to get there.
There was Jane, a faithful reader of The Briefing, who gave Kath a gigantic hug. They connected immediately, recognizing in each other a familiar mixture of grief, pain, and love.
Reggie was there. He works at a library. Somehow, he found my books. Reggie is quiet but thoughtful, and it was delightful getting to know him.
Then there was Vince. He just graduated with an MFA in writing. He's been slogging through his novel. Vince asked great questions, and I think he left with an understanding that he wasn't alone on his journey.
And then there was Mike, the bookstore manager, who put out cookies for twenty and sat in the back listening. We chatted about books after everyone left.
I would have driven four hours to hang out with any one of those people.
I used to worry about attendance because I thought it was a reflection of me as an author. Not so much anymore.
When someone comes to see me at a bookstore or library, they've made an effort.
They could be home. Sitting in their favorite chair. Reading a good book. Watching television.
Personally, I don't think I'd leave my couch to see me.
But they came anyway.
A lot of them have already bought my book. Maybe they've read all three. Maybe they borrowed one from the library.
And now they're giving me their time.
There's something enormously generous about that.
And what do I get out of it?
More than you'd think.
I spend much of my life alone in a room above the garage, creating imaginary people and putting them through hell.
It's a strange occupation.
For months, sometimes years, I have no idea whether any of it will matter to someone other than me.
And then I meet a reader.
A real person who's spent hours in the world I invented. Someone who knows Emma Noble. Who cares what happens to her.
Suddenly, all those solitary hours feel a little less solitary.
I'm grateful for the people who show up. The people who read The Briefing.
People like you.
Almost four hours on the road. Three readers.
I can't wait to do it again!
Happy Friday!
Andy
