Barnes & Noble Signing

How many days did you think your dreams were dumb?

I've thought it quite a few times. But this past weekend at the Barnes & Noble book signing at the Gallatin Valley Mall, I pondered: was it dumb to dream about sitting in a store and selling books? I guess not, because I was radiantly happy the whole time. I was called lovely and vivacious and welcoming. Family and love surrounded me. There's nothing like sliding into a day and understanding your purpose within it—that you don't have to seek, and ask, and question. Instead, you're doing what you're meant to do.

The world revolves around data and sales and the plus and minuses of numbers, but that day I was so scared something would go wrong, smiling and bright like a sunflower. This was a day of dreams. Just sitting at the front entrance of a Barnes & Noble, saying hello to complete strangers, shaking hands and talking to those who wished to say hi, to learn more, to ask What's it about? Don't forget this day, I thought. Never forget this day.

I played my book trailer and delighted—delighted—in those walking by who were caught by it, watching it for seconds or full minutes. One young boy asked his mother, "What's the soundtrack playing?" and I smiled broadly and said, "It's my book trailer. You can check it out right around the corner."

The staff was fantastic and so supportive. I gave a copy to one of them that kept checking on me.

My book cover stared at me from the Local Montana Author shelf, the Staff Recommended shelf (top shelf, good like liquor, right next to Stephen King's It), back in 'section' which I learned meant the science fiction and fantasy section (I adore lingo), and signs at each cash register, and the Starbucks. One girl picked up the novel in section, and shakily handed the book for me to sign like I was somebody.

We sold out of books. How's that for a number?