Yesterday I went with my husband to a sports’ superstar’s booksigning. And, because it was a book signing, we both bought a copy of the book along with the 400 or so folks standing in line with us. I figured I’ll donate the book to a fundraiser for a friend’s grandson who has a seizure disorder and will probably be wheelchair bound the rest of his life and, if I want to read the book, I’ll borrow my husband’s copy.
As we waited in the line which wound around a gym, my husband asked if I wouldn’t love to have that many people at one of my book signings. “Sure,” I said, “but it’s been awhile since I’ve hit a 3-pointer.” The line moved quickly into a cordoned off area where a burly woman in a hot pink sports polo slapped her arm out at my chest and barked, “Stop here! Hand him the book!” In case I didn’t get who the burly woman meant, she pointed across my chest to a guy who doubled as security and official book opener. He opened the book to the wrong page for signing and set it in front of the superstar who signed it, smiled and handed it back. And I want to pause here to tell you that I will always like and admire this superstar for that shy smile.
But I thought about my husband’s question, the idea of having that many folks waiting to get a book signed by a superstar and I answered my husband’s earlier question with a second, more honest answer. Sure, I’d love to sell as many copies of Janis Joplin as this sports superstar. But I like my book signings better. I get to connect to each reader who waits in line. I get a moment to talk with readers about Janis or who and what else inspires us. They share what they’re reading or what they loved about the last book they picked up. And I go home with a booklist and feeling like I’ve just made a whole new group of friends and I can’t wait to write for them again.
