Where Is/Was Wendy?

Last night was an author talk at Blacksburg Books. It was a fun night. The crowd was small and appreciative. They asked great questions. It was my friend Beth’s first event as an author. She set up the bookstore, since it’s her hometown shop.

Blacksburg Books is charming. They maximize space with shelves on wheels, rolling these to the side for authors. They have a lovely brass podium (bought from a funeral parlor going out of business sale, the manager told us, which reduced us all to laughter).

The manager is one of the smartest women I’ve ever met and a lot of fun. And definitely proud of her space – as she should be. The staff each have a shelf for their picks (always a good sign).

Beth O’Connor wrote the opening chapter for the book Masks, Misinformation, and Making Do, which is about healthcare workers across a spectrum of locations and jobs telling their stories. Beth oversees the Virginia Rural Health Association. She and I are often described as “work sisters.” We always say that if we didn’t work together, we’d still be friends, and if we weren’t friends, we’d still work together a lot.

She had a great time at the inaugural event, possibly aided by the pre-presentation cocktail.

Definitely aided by the post-presentation ice cream.


It’s exciting when an informational book sparks great questions, and the attendees kept up a stream of them. Insightful questions like: how did the timing difference between central Appalachia and the rest of the country play into why people refused vaccinations more here? And such. An engaged mind is an author’s best reward. Plus, everyone who attended bought a book :] The power of small crowds.

It was all lovely, and afterward the bookshop manager told me how much the owner regretted missing it due to a family commitment. “She told me Little Bookstore is one of her favorite books, not just about bookstores, but favorite.”

Lately a handful of pop-ups from the past have reminded me of something another author told me last week when we met for lunch. “It’s permanent. The book can never be erased. It will outlast you and it will still speak even if you stop writing.” Little Bookstore is still out there reminding people of the value of books, bookstores, and the stories other people carry around in side them.

That’s a nice thing to know.

Beth and I each bought a book after the signing. When I brought mine home, Jack seemed a little nervous.


Tonight I’m off to listen to a rising author I’m helping get a publisher. Julia Resil is an MD collecting Black maternal health stories. She’ll be on the author panel at tonight’s event in our local theatre. It’s been a good literary week. Y’all have a good weekend.

Lessons From Turtle

Some days you have to pull in, tuck up, and regenerate. Some days you lumber through the world, and everything else must get out of your way.

Like a turtle. Turtles are underrated as a species, the butt of jokes about being slow and trying to cross roads. But turtles are amazing creatures, in real life and in folklore.

(I interviewed one once…see below.)

My favorite story about a jerk getting himself out of being a jerk belongs to a turtle, in fact……

Turtle was in a foul temper, which is why he crashed headlong into Elephant’s foot.

Elephant looked down. “Hey, little buddy. You hurt yourself? You were going fast there.” He trumpeted a laugh.

Sucking in air, Turtle growled, “You think you’re a big bad jungle animal? Ha! I could take you with one claw tied behind my shell.”

Elephant blinked. He raised his foot and hovered it over Turtle, who resisted the urge to pull in, as Elephant weighed his options.

“That’s right, take the easy way!” Turtle shouted. “I challenge you to a real duel.”

Lowering his foot, Elephant leaned against a tree as he laughed. “You… me… hahahoho okay, little guy. You’ve got this coming. Say where and when.”

“Edge of the swamp, just before sunset!”

Turtle moved down the road as fast as his legs could carry him, and as Elephant said, “Get your affairs in order, then.”

Straight to the swamp, Turtle went, stuck his head underwater, and yelled, “Yo, Hippo!”

Hippo came up with a loud yawn. “This better be good; you woke me up.”

“I’m stronger than you,” Turtle said, examining his claws with an air of disdain.

Hippo turned his head and gave Turtle side-eye. “You’re… what now?”

“I said what I said. And I’ll prove it. Be in those rushes over there just before sunset. I’m challenging you to a duel!”

Muttering, “You’ve lost your mind; I’ll be there,” Hippo sank into the mud.

That evening, Turtle waited in the tall plants at the edge of the swamp with a heavy vine.

When Hippo appeared, he gave him one end. “When I yell go, pull. First one to pull the other into the bog or onto the land wins.”

With another “You’re crazy,” Hippo took the rope and waited.

Turtle crawled to the land with the other end, and gave it to Elephant, who appeared with a few friends. He got the same instructions, as his friends trumpeted laughter. Turtle crawled into the reed and yelled “Go!’

Hippo pulled; Elephant pulled. For almost an hour they pulled, but neither mighty animal could beat the other.

Finally Turtle yelled, “Stop!” Then he crawled to the bank where Elephant lay, panting with exhaustion.

“Well?” Turtle said, and Elephant looked at him with new respect.

“I had no idea you were so… tough. Truce?” Elephant huffed.

Turtle inclined his head graciously as Elephant’s friends helped him up, casting furtive glances back at Turtle.

Inside the swamp, Hippo’s eyes were glazed. “How did you get so strong?!” he sputtered.

“Kale. I eat a lot of kale. You ready to admit I’m tougher than I look?”

“Absolutely. Hey, could you bring me some kale? I’ll pay you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Turtle turned on his claw and sauntered away.

Moral: If your big mouth gets you in trouble, use your big brain to get out of it.