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.