Last month, I attended the 3rd annual San Diego Festival of Books. Although not as big as the LA Book Festival, it’s growing and gaining a good reputation. For one day, over 20,000 book lovers braved the warm Southern California sun to meet over 120 authors and shop at booths from the best bookstores of San Diego.
I was one of those authors.
Although I’ve signed books at traditional bookstore signings, this was the first time I sold books and signed at a festival. Our table represented the San Diego Chapter of the Horror Writers Association (HWA). Ironically, we were positioned just past the kid’s tent. While some older ladies would see our horror banner and cringe as they passed us by, a surprising number of people stopped by and raved about their love of a good scary story.
I only brought seven copies of an anthology that carried my short story, “Kenneth is Drowning”. But, by the end of the day, I had sold and signed all of my copies. Additionally, I signed about another 7-8 copies that a fellow writer had brought.
There’s no feeling quite like people buying your art and signing your name to it. Although, big name authors might get tired of it, I’ll never lose the exhilaration of connecting with the reader on such a personal level. I never expect to get rich writing fiction. However, I’ll never be able to stop. If even just one person is touched by my stories, it will be worth it.
Meanwhile, there’s so many stories to write. I’ve just finished a short mystery about a 4’6” private detective who lives on a boat in Florida. I continue to work my way through a novel based on Edgar Allan Poe’s detective, C. Auguste Dupin.
As I wrote in a previous post, writer’s block does not exist for me. I just need more time to write. Where are the Gertrude Steins of the world.
Have a great week. Read something good.
