A week ago, I was at the Tecumseh United Methodist Church, peddling my wares at their second annual Arts & Crafts show. It was a fun event, during which I was invited to an arts & crafts bazaar at St. Elizabeth Catholic Church, also in Tecumseh (actually, like, a stone's throw from the UMC). I agreed to attend, mainly because I'd never had an event at St. Elizabeth and it seemed like a good opportunity to meet new people and possibly gain a new audience for the books.
Except, I was down to only 6 books. SURELY, I'd need a larger inventory if I hoped to satisfy the...Catholic masses.
So, I drove to Rockford after work on Friday, spent the night, and was on the road at 6am Saturday with a re-up of Woodcutters and Lelanis, and half of an apple pie, courtesy of mum. The show was mostly a mixed bag...lots of vendors, kinda light on visitors. I sold a few books* and met a bunch of nice people, vendors and visitors alike. I had basically chalked it up as a lukewarm success, when something happened that blasted the event into outer space.
A photographer across the aisle, Deb, bought a copy of The Woodcutter at the start of the 6 hour event. As time was winding down and folks were thinking about packing up, Deb started crying. She had just read the book, and the tears were falling. She offered some beautiful words on the book, I blushed and thanked her, and just like that...my day, my week, are in the stratosphere. Being able to connect with people through my work - that's what makes 5 hours of driving and 5 hours of sleep all worthwhile. That moment, her reaction, was everything.
* - Literally "a few books." As in, I sold 3 books. Six would've totally covered it. >.<
