Special Delivery
I am donating a signed copy of Nocturne to a fundraiser for a local family whose home caught fire. Their dog was killed, and the family is living in a hotel for three months while repairs are made.
The fundraiser is being organized by my friend, Pam Moss. Pam and I tried all week to meet up so I could give her the book. Life happened. We failed. The fundraiser is this weekend, so time was running short.
I told Pam I would be at the Sacred Grounds coffeehouse on Main Street all Friday evening, as is my general habit. She said she would come by the coffeehouse and get the book.
I even remembered to dig out a copy of Nocturne from the warehouse section of the Tower before leaving. That's how organized I am this week, folks. Why, I might eventually be able to finish the profit-loss statements for Literary Underworld before the first quarter is over, but let's not get crazy.
I didn't sign the book right away, figuring I'd ask Pam what she wanted me to put when she came by. Instead, I worked on blog entries and judging this journalism contest on which I am way, way past my deadline. *whistles*
Meanwhile, down the street there is a dueling pianos extravaganza going on at the Wildey. I love the Wildey, and I love the shows I've seen there. I was kicking a can down the street (metaphorically) that I did not get tickets to the dueling pianos thing, because it looked like fun. But it also filled every parking spot on the street and most of the parking lots from Main Street to the county jail.
Just a few minutes ago, Pam called me on her cell. She was circling the block, totally unable to find a parking space. I laughed and said I could just run it out to her. Then I remembered I hadn't signed it.
So while Pam circled the block again, I scribbled something in the book, signed and dated it, then ran out between the cars along Main Street.
Pam's SUV slowed to a crawl. I tossed the book through her open window, and she laughed and thanked me as she sped away.
That was possibly the weirdest delivery of a book I've done since my first novel was published ten years ago. Good luck, Pam!
And good luck to the Elliott family. If you are interested in helping or donating, find out more here.
The fundraiser is being organized by my friend, Pam Moss. Pam and I tried all week to meet up so I could give her the book. Life happened. We failed. The fundraiser is this weekend, so time was running short.
I told Pam I would be at the Sacred Grounds coffeehouse on Main Street all Friday evening, as is my general habit. She said she would come by the coffeehouse and get the book.
I even remembered to dig out a copy of Nocturne from the warehouse section of the Tower before leaving. That's how organized I am this week, folks. Why, I might eventually be able to finish the profit-loss statements for Literary Underworld before the first quarter is over, but let's not get crazy.
I didn't sign the book right away, figuring I'd ask Pam what she wanted me to put when she came by. Instead, I worked on blog entries and judging this journalism contest on which I am way, way past my deadline. *whistles*
Meanwhile, down the street there is a dueling pianos extravaganza going on at the Wildey. I love the Wildey, and I love the shows I've seen there. I was kicking a can down the street (metaphorically) that I did not get tickets to the dueling pianos thing, because it looked like fun. But it also filled every parking spot on the street and most of the parking lots from Main Street to the county jail.
Just a few minutes ago, Pam called me on her cell. She was circling the block, totally unable to find a parking space. I laughed and said I could just run it out to her. Then I remembered I hadn't signed it.
So while Pam circled the block again, I scribbled something in the book, signed and dated it, then ran out between the cars along Main Street.
Pam's SUV slowed to a crawl. I tossed the book through her open window, and she laughed and thanked me as she sped away.
That was possibly the weirdest delivery of a book I've done since my first novel was published ten years ago. Good luck, Pam!
And good luck to the Elliott family. If you are interested in helping or donating, find out more here.
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