For several minutes, I felt as though I was being interviewed by the host of this wacky paranormal/conspiracy/the stranger the better, radio show.
There were the three of us, Barbra, Debra and myself set up under the canopy that is almost a requirement for these markets, sandwiched in between a farmer selling various kinds of watermelons and a farmer marketing corn, ‘maters, potatoes, green beans and other tasty home grown foods.
Barbra writes period stories and has many books for sale. She has a nice following of readers who seek out the booth to ask her when her next book is coming out so they can be ready to purchase it right away.
Debra writes children’s books, which entertain and teach young children.
Then there is me. I have two books on the table, White Hot Skies, and Time’s Crossroads, each on a bookstand, with reviews of each one positioned on one side and Back Cover Blurbs for each on the other side. In front of the book, Time’s Crossroads, on a paper flat on the table is question, “What would you do with a time machine?”
Our display is not fancy, but it is functional and seems have people stop and look and ask questions of each of us.
One gentleman stopped and seemed to feel the need to explain why he didn’t read as much as he should, however he did at times ask questions about why we write and how long each of us have been doing so. But he made no indication he was interested in purchasing any of our books. Nor did he seem to want to move on. My wife says I’ll talk to anyone about anything. She’s right, but this guy was blocking the table and starting to repeat himself on far too many subjects. How long he was there, I don’t know for sure. Debra said an hour. I think it was not more than 40 minutes.
Then he picked up Time’s Crossroads, and asked what it was about. Now he and I had discussed the ins and outs of science fiction and why I write it. So his next question had me thinking I was being interviewed by George Noori of Coast to Coast AM Radio.
“Time travel? So is about how to do it, or is it fiction?”
Be proud of me, I didn’t miss a beat and treated the question as if I heard it every day and told him, without smirking that it was pure fiction. Neither Barbra nor Debra showed any reaction to the question. God Bless them both.
He pulled out his wallet and bought the book saying he may come back and buy the other one in a week or two.
Then of course in reading my book, he may have figured out time travel and bought my next book last week.