The threat of impending thunderstorms has resulted in the cancellation of many of the scheduled Word of South events; therefore, I shall not be hawking my book to festival attendees this weekend. Instead, I shall parade around Doright Manor speaking formally to the resident feline and to the gentleman with whom I sleep.
Thankfully, today’s virtual book club meeting should proceed as planned, unless lightning intervenes. What is the old Yiddish proverb? “We plan; God laughs.” Alas, ‘tis true.
Carry on, fellow travelers. Weep not for me, for the heavy skies have taken on that task in your stead.
May you have peace, good people.
I’m sure there will be more chances
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I’m sure that’s true. Thanks!
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Reblogged this on Disablities & Mental Health Issues.
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The one time I went to a book festival and set up a booth, I didn’t sell a single copy. I didn’t take that as a reflection on my writing so much as the fact that there were approximately 300 booths and a million different books for sale. Suffice it to say, I never bothered trying again.
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I have a feeling that would’ve been the case at this festival, especially since several best-selling authors were scheduled to speak. Stiff competition, for sure.
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