Getting out there with my book
Busy week! I presented a copy of my book (When Men Move to the Basement) to the Franklin County Library here in Rocky Mount. They took pictures and some info for a blurb, and will take it over to the News-Post.
I then stopped at the News-Post and happened to catch Morris Stephenson at a good time...I gave him a copy of my book along with an "Interview" sheet with Q& A, and my card so he can call or e-mail me. He was delighted. He remembered meeting me when Dick and others from our church went on a mission trip to repair some flood-damaged buildings for disabled homeowners on the Virginia coast. Morris said he definitely would review my book, probably next week, and would watch for the picture(s) from the library visit.
Then, on Friday after our Lake Writers meeting at the Moneta Library, I drove over to Bedford to Jean Brobeck's lovely home, where her Book Club members arrived for their monthly meeting. There were about 16 of us in all; delightful women. (Prior to their arrival, Jean fed me a nice lunch and her husband Irv took me downstairs --yes, to his basement territory where he paints incredible landscapes and street-scapes in watercolor. Jean is a poet, so this is quite a talented couple.) I sold 7 copies of my book, autographing them individually of course.
Jean also gave me a list of Bedford gift shops where she thought I might be able to place my book.
Incredibly, there was an amazing coincidence: as I told the group about living in Maine for 19 years before retiring here to the BlueRidge Mountains, one quite bright-eyed elderly woman told me she'd been born in Presque Isle, Maine. Now, that's the town I lived in for those 19 years, and it is where my husband Dick was born. She was trying to place him as a Higgins (there were three Higgins' families there, & they were related even though they said they were not) when she said abruptly: Oh, I remember going to school with a Dana Higgins!
Well, Dana was my husband's father. He died last year. Christine Riley was a Graves, and they owned one of the funeral parlors in town. She got so excited and mentioned she nearly had not attended the Book Club meeting as she'd fallen asleep and her friend, giving her a ride over, sat outside in her car for the longest time waiting for her. Then she was so glad she'd attended after all, as she'd been back to Presque Isle (3 hours drive north of Bangor) over the 57 years since she'd moved away, but it was such a treat to be reminded about her birth place.
I enjoyed meeting everyone in Jean's charming group of book readers, and it felt good to be out there again with my book.
I then stopped at the News-Post and happened to catch Morris Stephenson at a good time...I gave him a copy of my book along with an "Interview" sheet with Q& A, and my card so he can call or e-mail me. He was delighted. He remembered meeting me when Dick and others from our church went on a mission trip to repair some flood-damaged buildings for disabled homeowners on the Virginia coast. Morris said he definitely would review my book, probably next week, and would watch for the picture(s) from the library visit.
Then, on Friday after our Lake Writers meeting at the Moneta Library, I drove over to Bedford to Jean Brobeck's lovely home, where her Book Club members arrived for their monthly meeting. There were about 16 of us in all; delightful women. (Prior to their arrival, Jean fed me a nice lunch and her husband Irv took me downstairs --yes, to his basement territory where he paints incredible landscapes and street-scapes in watercolor. Jean is a poet, so this is quite a talented couple.) I sold 7 copies of my book, autographing them individually of course.
Jean also gave me a list of Bedford gift shops where she thought I might be able to place my book.
Incredibly, there was an amazing coincidence: as I told the group about living in Maine for 19 years before retiring here to the BlueRidge Mountains, one quite bright-eyed elderly woman told me she'd been born in Presque Isle, Maine. Now, that's the town I lived in for those 19 years, and it is where my husband Dick was born. She was trying to place him as a Higgins (there were three Higgins' families there, & they were related even though they said they were not) when she said abruptly: Oh, I remember going to school with a Dana Higgins!
Well, Dana was my husband's father. He died last year. Christine Riley was a Graves, and they owned one of the funeral parlors in town. She got so excited and mentioned she nearly had not attended the Book Club meeting as she'd fallen asleep and her friend, giving her a ride over, sat outside in her car for the longest time waiting for her. Then she was so glad she'd attended after all, as she'd been back to Presque Isle (3 hours drive north of Bangor) over the 57 years since she'd moved away, but it was such a treat to be reminded about her birth place.
I enjoyed meeting everyone in Jean's charming group of book readers, and it felt good to be out there again with my book.
posted by Marion | 9:45 PM
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