A weekly series of riffs in 200 words.
As an author, it is sometimes disheartening to visit bookstores, ready to introduce yourself and offer to sign some books or assist in promoting your book, only to find it isn’t stocked.
Some of my favourite people work in bookstores: most of them are passionate about books and eager to ‘order the book in’. But there is something rather special about just stumbling upon one’s ‘pride and joy’.
To add confusion to my situation… due to a mix-up in the very early publication stages, some book stores have my name as Karen LEE-THOMPSON instead of Karen lee THOMPSON so friends occasionally report that my book is not in store as, naturally, they look under T. I am now discovering that it is often to be found half-way through in the Ls.
I have published articles as Karenlee Thompson and I’m thinking adopting it again (my husband calls me Karenlee).
Sometimes it’s frustrating and disheartening (especially if, like me, you’re still on promotional L-plates), but when I saw this shot of ‘my baby’ nestled comfortably between the hilariously funny Kathy Lette and the sexily erudite Tobsha Learner, I was buoyed once more.
So that’s the plush velvet lining behind today’s cloud.
The answer to Friday’s Fictionary Dictionary…WICKIUP is a hut made of brushwood.