Lara Zuberi's Blog - Posts Tagged "fiction"
Book Signing In The Rain
"It's going to rain all day?" I thought with displeasure, when I heard the first hint of thunder the morning of my first book signing. The bookstore was part of a strip of outdoor shops, where the warmth of the sun walks with the people and carries them along. Sunshine meant more passersby, more joy, more potential for contemplation over the cover of a book.
What if nobody showed up? That would be disappointing, but then I could just blame it on the rain.
I set my table, chair, books, an old fancy pen, and my unsure self at the entrance of the store.
A group of shoppers who bought the first book, said it was for their friends who were to be married that week. Another lady smiled at the mention of Freemont, because five generations of her family had lived there. Yet another young lady appeared intrigued but unsure, promised to return with her husband, but never did. I will remember two best friends who had the 12 year old sparkle in their eyes, the anticipation of what would surprise them about a new book. Then there was the grumpy man, drenched, and accompanied by his dog, who said,"Fiction? Why would I read that?", leaving me surprised and feeling sorry for him.
The faces of these versatile readers will blur over time, but the memory that will stay sharpest, is of the man who walked past me and then returned. He didn't have the money on him to pay. He read the back cover, and I saw his eyes fill up with tears. "That will be my daughter. She won't realize the value of things I say until after I'm gone." I had the sense that there was a lot more hiding behind those tears. I assured him that the store would hold his copy, and I would sign it with his daughter's name. "It's Neveah," he said. "Her mother chose it," he answered when I inquired about the spelling."It's Heaven spelled backwards." He walked away with his book and his umbrella, without knowing that he may have given me the beginning of my next book.
What if nobody showed up? That would be disappointing, but then I could just blame it on the rain.
I set my table, chair, books, an old fancy pen, and my unsure self at the entrance of the store.
A group of shoppers who bought the first book, said it was for their friends who were to be married that week. Another lady smiled at the mention of Freemont, because five generations of her family had lived there. Yet another young lady appeared intrigued but unsure, promised to return with her husband, but never did. I will remember two best friends who had the 12 year old sparkle in their eyes, the anticipation of what would surprise them about a new book. Then there was the grumpy man, drenched, and accompanied by his dog, who said,"Fiction? Why would I read that?", leaving me surprised and feeling sorry for him.
The faces of these versatile readers will blur over time, but the memory that will stay sharpest, is of the man who walked past me and then returned. He didn't have the money on him to pay. He read the back cover, and I saw his eyes fill up with tears. "That will be my daughter. She won't realize the value of things I say until after I'm gone." I had the sense that there was a lot more hiding behind those tears. I assured him that the store would hold his copy, and I would sign it with his daughter's name. "It's Neveah," he said. "Her mother chose it," he answered when I inquired about the spelling."It's Heaven spelled backwards." He walked away with his book and his umbrella, without knowing that he may have given me the beginning of my next book.
