Monthly Archives: May 2022

My first official book signing party

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Every author dreams of sitting at a table and signing copies of the books they have painstakingly brought forth from the depths of their imagination. It is a rite of passage that has always intrigued me and has lingered in the back of my mind since I self-published my first book in January of 2021. Putting out that first book in the midst of a global pandemic was not ideal, so the opportunity to organize a book signing was an unattainable dream that was soon buried under the pile of words swirling around in my brain.

Yesterday, a small group of women I refer to as “The Fab Five” joined me in a small room, and they allowed me to sign their copies of my books and talk about my writing process as well as the difficulties self-published authors face as they attempt to fight their way into the mainstream of the literary world. It is an uphill battle, but one I will continue to walk barefoot in the snow both ways. (I’m showing my age with that reference)

The hour we spent together was nothing short of magical. I allowed myself to feel like an author, and not just a person who wrote a story or two. The more I talked about my journey as a writer, the more I connected to the part of myself that feels like the true essence of my being. I love to write, and I love that the stories I have created have entertained people enough to have them ask to have their books signed by me, and to spark a discussion about the books I will be writing in the future.

When I sent my first book baby into the world, I felt like a writer. But after sitting in that small room with The Fab Five, women who have read and enjoyed my stories, I truly felt like an author. I am compelled to give my eternal gratitude to Nancy, Nora, Evelyn, Sharon, and Jayne. The time you gave to me yesterday inspired me to keep going, and to never lose sight of my dream.

It doesn’t take money to be kind

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I have not been present much on this platform, this accessible soap box that allows me to write about whatever topic I choose to write about. The lodge is busy getting ready to open for the long weekend, and I have been preoccupied by finishing my fifth novel and preparing my new baby to enter the world.

But, as writers do, I became distracted by social media while trying to write the blurb for the back of the book and I was unsettled by a tweet I saw while I should have been writing the outline of my latest novel. I’m sure the phrase in this woman’s bio was simply meant to insinuate that she could do more good if she had access to a plethora of funds, but the simple line “I wish I had the $$ to be more kind” took me by surprise.

I do not have access to heaps of cash, but I choose to be kind every day. Money, in my mind, does not equate to kindness. Simple gestures of humanity can bestow a great sense of compassion on those who are fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of that gesture. Perhaps if the line in her bio read, “I wish I had more money to donate to great causes”, I would not have been so affected. But her reference to money being equated to kindness burrowed under my skin, and the contamination of her misguided ideal caused that small, polluted remark to infect my sensibilities.

While this post may seem like more of a rant, my intention is to simply have my words be a reminder. We are not all blessed with wealth, but we are all given the opportunity to be kind on a daily basis. A few thoughtful words, or a simple gesture, could change the trajectory of someone else’s day without monetary currency being a factor in that communication. Kindness comes from the heart, and not from a bank account. Cash should not be the currency in a world of good will. It does not take money to be kind. It simply takes a willingness to take the time to shine your light on someone else and let that person momentarily bathe in its glow.