Well, we had a fairly busy weekend. Okay, not really, but we had a good time, and it was busy for us.
After contemplating burgers all weekend, I decided brownies would be good to make. In anticipation of wanting brownies, sometime last week I picked up a couple of boxes of Ghiradelli brownie mix. I love Ghiradelli chocolate; grew up in the SF Bay area, remember, so I’m familiar with those pups. Even the boxed variety are delicious.
But we didn’t get to that until later.
First, Saturday rolled around and it was time to get my wife to her author meet. One of her newfound favorite authors, Brad Thor, came to our library for a book signing appearance. She agonized over whether or not to go until Ben and Kristy provided a copy of his last book (not the newest one for which he’s touring), The Last Patriot, for him to sign. Brad Thor, so says my wife, was engaging and approachable. He answered the usual round of questions with patient good nature. And he was far briefer than the time slot allotted him implied. He only took forty minutes of his ninety, signed books for those with kids in the library waiting first so they could wrangle them, and was gone in a whirlwind of star-struck yokels and magic author-dust. Good stuff. While he regaled his audience with his writerly charms, I sat with the kids and let them read books about their current obsessions: ants, bats and sharks. Overall, not a bad afternoon.
We decided to risk financial ruin and treat ourselves to dinner out of a paper wrapper, and reveled in the glory of the cholesterol spike.
But Brad Thor’s visit made my love imagine things. She wanted me to “get ready” – meaning, get ready for the time when I, as an author, will have to tour and do book signings. It’s nice to have someone so supportive, so full of belief in your ability, in your corner. I can’t thank her enough for that confidence, and it’s only one of the myriad reasons I love her so.
She heard the usual round of questions — “Where do you get your ideas (from)?” [hey, we’re in the Midwest; it’s not really a sentence if you don’t end it on a preposition] and “What made you decide to become a writer?” My wife told me only a couple of the audience members were wannabes, which surprised me, frankly. I thought he’d be swarmed with them, having published seven novels now.
Still I resist the dreamer’s urge to speculate on what I’ll say when it’s my turn. My turn, despite what my loving spouse wants to believe, may never come. I haven’t finished a manuscript yet, and I can’t say even if I do and it gets picked up and published, I’ll be required to tour like a rock band. Depends on how well it sells, I’m sure.
Anyway, I’ll talk more about that in a later post this week. What else do I have to talk about?
Sunday was an easy day with the kids, and then – at the behest of our daughter, not quite four years old – my beloved made brownies.
Sound exciting? It wasn’t. But we had a good time, and what else matters, really?
How was your weekend?