Pen Women of Salem, VA

I drove to W. Main Street, Salem, to read some of my essays from When Men Move to the Basement. Arriving about 12:20 for the 12:30 luncheon meeting, I worried when I saw the rather nondescript storefront building facing the busy street. I'd expected something more like we have in Rocky Mount; a delightfully designed and maintained little coffee shop.

Going inside, I was pleased to see the interior was very attractive. Perhaps they have not yet worked on the front of the shop, although that is where a business would generally start in order to attract customers.

Their meeting rooms are quite roomy, each with a large oval wooden table and very comfortable executive-type chairs. When I went out to the main shop to order an iced coffee, I learned it would be part of my pre-ordered lunch. Not only that, it was "Thirsty Thursday" so they automatically went to the next larger size for me. Delightful young women behind the counter each brought our lunches; mine was a tasty chicken salad on a croissant with chips and a dill pickle slice. Perfect with my iced cinnamon coffee.

There was not a full crew for the meeting--a talented sculptor named Gail sat next to me. Having broken her left foot, she was wearing one of those clunky walking casts with which I have become only too familiar. Her story was that she'd broken her foot while chasing her husband with a can of whipped cream, slipping on a patch of the whipped cream. OK. Works for me, and much more interesting than "I slipped and fell."

Another woman named Gail sat across from me and her table partner, wearing very dark glasses to combat the overhead flourescent lighting that exacerbated an eye condition, looked as if she were incognito, a mysterious movie star perhaps. Ethel, at the end of the table, ran the meeting. Peggy Shiflette, whom I had met at Ibby Greer's home, held down the other end of the table. Becky Mushko kept notes as their regular secretary was with her husband as he was having surgery. Other members were unable to attend, so it was a small, cozy group.

The Pen Women conducted their business meeting in a short period of time, and then Becky introduced me. Giving a bit of information to them regarding my move from northern California to northern Maine, and then to Rocky Mount, I proceeded to read first (by request) the essay that became my book title, When Men Move to the Basement, and then had time enough to read Morning Coffee to much laughter. We discussed the fact that most men DO move to the basement, or another room in the house, and several there (after all, these are writers all) knew exactly what was happening when I threw my nightgown into the washer in Morning Coffee.

I have to admit I do love women as an audience; they identify so readily with the predicaments I've gotten into.

Gratifyingly, everyone bought a copy of my book! Not only that, when I left the Daily Grind, I drove by Peggy Shiflett's shop, Cottage Curios, and stopped in first because I'd signed her copy of my book--but had neglected to actually SIGN it. Secondly, Becky had thought Peggy might want to carry my book on consignment. She did; I placed three copies with her, which went on her local authors' shelf. She told me she plans a monthly event when her artists, knitters, craftspersons all sit in various rooms of her lovely shop, and she asked me if I might be interested in signing books on Saturday, 22 September.

So this was a very productive day for me indeed. And thanks to Becky Mushko, who is a member of the Pen Women of Salem, for getting the ball rolling so I could meet this friendly group of women writers/artists.