Tag Archives: friendship

A Little Help from our Friends

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gutted buildingEvery year in September Jack and I trot happily off to emcee the Sycamore Shoals Celtic Festival in Tennessee. This year the chaos of getting away from a busy time at the shop and in my new book prep had us flying out the door Friday at 5 pm, shouting “and don’t forget to give Bert his pill” to Thom, the poor lad we’d sucked in at 10 that morning to shopsit the rest of the day. Since we’d be back Sunday and the animals have feeders and water jugs, and the yard is fenced, we weren’t worried. We got to our luxury hotel, bounced on the king sized sleigh bed a few times, and went out to grab an Indian meal.burning 2

When we awoke next morning to Facebook postings from home about the building downtown that had burned, you can imagine the luxuriated, lazy blood in my veins turning to jelly.

The building was a block away; no one was in it; all is as well as it can be. But I panicked, thinking about our three staff cats (one of whom resides by choice outside) two staff dogs (Bert the Terrier is terrified of loud noises) and three foster cats, sojourning with us until their forever families find them. Would Bert have dug under the fence to get away from an event so reminiscent of the dreaded thunderstorm? Would Beulah (outside greeter) be run over in the chaos of downtown fire traffic? Ernest Hemingway, our newest foster, landed with us Friday morning. He’d never even spent a night in our house; we took him straight from the shelter to have his balls cut off, thence home to abandon him for two days, and the firetrucks came. burning 1

(“Call this a rescue?” I could hear Ernie thinking. “Take me back to the shelter! I’ll take my chances!”)

So I did what any modern American woman panicking does: got on Facebook and begged our Saturday shopsitters Wes and Rachael to let me know as soon as they got there if everything was okay. And here’s what happened

3,2,1 LUNCH–er, Launch

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So Tuesday past was the launch day of my book. A memorable day in so many ways; I spent it throwing up.

Nah, not nerves: flu. Apparently it’s come early to rural Virginia this year.

Between visits to the toilet and “just take me now Lord” prayers, I checked Facebook. It’s what one does on these occasions….

And my friends, the ones from the midnight opening of the bookstore (for those who didn’t know, we opened at 12:01 Tuesday morning so a half dozen of our most loyal customers could get their copies) were sending notes.

“On chapter 14, and laughing myself silly!”

“You are describing just what it was like for me when I came to Big Stone.”

“Ha! This is so accurate!” (which didn’t have any additional information attached to it, and has kind of become a catch phrase for me now. It’s just so succinct and yet so… wide-ranging.)

And emails and facebook likes and comments were coming from people I didn’t know, who’d bought the book that day in their local bookshops in various locations across the States. That was fun, to hear from those reading in Vermont and California. (And thanks to Jennifer Gough at Ebenezer Books who put it on her “staff picks” shelf!) And there were people who won the book in promotional giveaways from St. Martin’s Press; some were posting reviews on Goodreads and Amazon, others sending notes and comments–nice comments!

But the funniest moment came when Jack gave a shout of laughter from behind his computer screen. “You’re not gonna believe this! We’re in Walmart!”

Sure enough, he showed me the link. Walmart’s offerings include a book that extols the virtues of shopping small in local communities. And what do you wanna bet the Walmart up the hill behind us will sell the book that’s about the bookstore below them?

It’s a mad, mad, crazy world out there, so I did what any sensible person would do under those circumstances: crawled back into bed with the basin beside me. Go by, mad world.