I went back to school, earned my masters in English, and started writing.
I was almost forty-five years old.
My story, a steampunk re-telling of H.C. Christensen's The Little Match Girl, was published through Xchyler Publishing and in the summer of 2013, a Steampunk Convention was held about ten miles from my house a few months later. I was asked to be on a writing panel about the book, steampunk, and writing in general. I was on Cloud 9. The first story I ever submitted was actually published.
For the next few years, I had a few other stories published, then a collection of my short stories, then a novel. And I kept going to book signings. Those first few were so exciting. My name on books...it felt sort of surreal. People actually buying my books was icing on the cake.
Then, when I didn't generate new material, I'd sit with friends and no one would buy anything from me. I still loved being around other authors, but things had changed. Eventually (and covid didn't help...), I stopped doing signings.
Our little town has a summer reading kickoff party, in fact, it's called the Summer Reading Kickoff Party. This year's even took place last Friday and I asked if I could participate. They said yes, and I had a blast. I was proud of my little books, proud again of what I've written. That pride sort of dissipated over the years. I talked to everyone who showed up at my table, and as I packed up to go home, I had sold four books.
It's been a long time since I sold that many books at one signing.
Maybe it's because I have two books written waiting to find a home. Maybe it's because it's been so long since I did a book signing. I don't know, but I do know I'm thankful for the opportunity, the chance to talk to people who love to read. I'm thankful for those who have supported my little hobby for the past ten-plus years and hopefully, for years to come.
Last Friday...well, it felt like old times.
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