Who is Too Fond of Books? I’m Dawn, welcome to my book blog! This is the place for book reviews, author interviews, giveaways, Spotlight on Bookstores series, bookish musings, and news from the publishing world.
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Giveaways:
You caught me in between giveaways - check back in a week or so. In the meantime, catch up on some of the fun posts and book reviews at She Is Too Fond of Books. Let me know what you're reading!
I’ve been talking about …
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 I’m back from #booktopiaVT – that’s the twitter hashtag for the 3-day ‘readers retreat’ for listeners of the Books on the Nightstand podcast. We spent Friday thru Sunday in gorgeous Manchester, Vermont; three inns and the rambling Northshire Bookstore were the venues for intimate sessions that brought authors and readers together.
There is SO MUCH to share about the weekend – so much! Fun people, books, interesting conversations, books, beat-the-clock outlet shopping, books …
In the interest of brevity – and in hoping to unpack and hide the evidence in various bookshelves, nightstands, and other horizontal surfaces around the house – I’m going to write a few short posts about #booktopia over the next several days … first up is the haul of books I purchased:
- Learning to Swim by Sarah J. Henry – a literary thriller set in upstate New York. Sarah was a #booktopiaVT author
- Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen … because my neighborhood book group will discuss this on Wednesday, and I’m down to the wire!
- Banishing Verona by Margot Livesey … because I love her writing, and I’ve yet to read this novel (and needed to rescue the hardcover from the remainder table!)
- Living in Booktopia – a compilation of the ‘booktopia’ vision as imagined by Booktopia participants from the three retreats in Manchester, Oxford, and Santa Cruz. This was printed on the Espresso Book Machine at Northshire Bookstore, and is available on their website.
- Defending Jacob by William Landay – I loved this novel, a mystery/thriller set in metro Boston; I was on the edge of my seat as I read the final few chapters. I picked this up as a gift. Bill was a #booktopiaVT author.
- Don’t Know Much about Literature by Kenneth C. Davis. We have a number of the ‘Don’t Know Much About … ” books, and I thought this was the perfect title to add to our collection. Ken was a #booktopiaVT author.
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 The Woman Who Gave Birth to Rabbits – a short fiction collection from Emma Donoghue, the author of Room (and another remainder rescue!)- We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver – because my #booktopiaVT roommate looked at me in disbelief when I confessed I hadn’t read anything by Lionel Shriver
- The End of Your life Book Club by Will Schwalbe – a fun surprise in our #booktopiaVT welcome packets! This is an advance copy of a memoir that’s coming out in October. Ann says ‘if you liked Tuesdays with Morrie or The Last Lecture, this is for you!’
- An Iliad by Alessandro Baricco – reading Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles has made me not fear the Greeks! One day I’ll revisit Homer’s Iliad and recover from the trauma I endured in high school.
- Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry – oh, this wasn’t a purchase at Northshire Bookstore; this was my win in the Yankee Swap we played on Friday afternoon. What a fun way to get to know the other #booktopiaVT participants – we each brought a wrapped book and played a literary version of Russian Roulette (or musical chairs; choose your metaphor). I haven’t read Wendell Berry, but know him as a poet … this book of prose was “stolen” four times during our Yankee Swap, so I feel like I got a winner!
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- History of a Pleasure Seeker by Richard Mason. No, you’re not seeing double; I bought one for myself and one for a gift. Richard was a #booktopiaVT author.
- Don’t Know Much about Space and Don’t Know Much about American History by Kenneth C. Davis … because I had to bring home something for the kids!
There were four other #booktopiaVT authors whose books I had prior to the weekend: Madeline Miller and The Song of Achilles, Leslie Maitland and Crossing the Borders of Time, Howard Frank Mosher and The Great Northern Express, and Susan Cain and Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.
 If there’s one thing better than seeing a favorite author at an event/reading, it’s seeing that author with your own little gang of fellow fans.
And, if there’s one thing better than seeing a favorite author with fellow fans, it’s the opportunity to create a newly-minted fan. I had just this experience last week – what fun it was to introduce my BFF to the writing of Adriana Trigiani … and to the author herself!
 Robin Kall - "Reading with Robin" The event was organized (magnificently!) by Robin Kall, aka “Reading with Robin,” who has hosted a book-based talk show on a Rhode Island radio station for over ten years. Several times a year, Robin hosts author events at local halls and restaurants, allowing her listeners to see/hear the authors in person.
When I saw that Adriana Trigiani was going to be featured (and, in fact, that this was the closest Adriana would be to me in the Boston area), I knew that this was something special which called for a road trip. It also called for a VIP to ride shotgun with me, so I invited my friend Donna, telling her that I wanted to treat her for National Girlfriend’s Day (which, Donna informed me, is actually in August, not April, but she was willing to overlook my poorly organized calendar!).
 Thus, the Great Rhode (Island) Trip was born! Kind of like Thelma and Louise, but without Brad Pitt (and with a much happier ending!).
We planned easy dinners and arranged rides for our kids (7 between the two of us) to and from hockey try-outs, band concerts, baseball practice and playdates, and hit the road around 4:30 last Thursday afternoon.
The event was at West Valley Inn in West Warwick, Rhode Island; about an hour and a half south, without traffic. To get an idea of how nonsensical that phrase, “without traffic,” was at 4:30 on Rte. 128/95 that afternoon, know that one of my tweets read something like “I’ll never get used to the breakdown lane being open for driving during rush hour. #scary.”
Donna packed a picnic dinner for our drive – those drinks are a smoothie concoction of cucumber, apples, and pineapples (and you thought I was drinking another Shamrock Shake, didn’t you!?); we also enjoyed cheese and crackers, sliced apples, and champagne grapes. Classy stuff for a swagger-wagon! Time flies while you’re having fun … and chatting, which is what we did for 75 miles (and again on the ride home!). We made it to the event in good time, and even saw a rainbow on the drive down … go ahead, say it, “how cool is that?!”
 The hall was packed! P-A-C-K-E-D packed! We were seated auditorium style, and, while I didn’t count heads, I would guess there were 400-450 people in the room. The event opened with Robin introducing herself and telling a bit about Adriana’s most recent novel, The Shoemaker’s Wife. In essence, this is the fictionalized account of her grandparents’ story, from their days in Italy to their lives in Little Italy – no spoilers!
Then Adriana walked into the room – she is a rock star! Everyone was up on their feet, clapping and waving … she was waving right back … and hugging … and chatting. She must have know half the people in the room, and made the other half feel just as welcome.
Now, during the intro, Robin had indicated that their could be no photography or videography during Adriana’s performance. Performance? I thought she was going to do the typical author event – talk about the new novel, read an excerpt or two, take questions, etc. No. It was a performance! Not a scripted song and dance, but a wonderful time (almost two hours!) listening to Adriana talk about her Italian-American heritage and family dynamics, hearing her personal stories, nodding along in recognition, laughing, and laughing, and laughing.
We broke for coffee and dessert, and walked over to where Adriana was talking with some people from the audience. I overheard enough snippets of conversation to cement my earlier impression – half the people in the room had met her at a previous event, the other half was made to feel as if they had met before – she is so warm and welcoming!
Donna and I made our way to the front to say hello; I introduced myself (and the blog name) and was rewarded with an instant wide smile and ‘of course, Dawn, I thought I recognized you!’ Adriana went on to explain to the women standing behind us what a blog is, what bloggers do, and how we can connect with others over books even from a distance.
Thank you, Adriana – for writing the novels that keep us coming back for more … and bringing our friends along for the ride! Thank you, Robin – for organizing such a fun event; the energy in that function hall was incredible! And thank you, Donna – for putting up with my crazy schemes for 40+ years, here’s to many more adventures!
 The menu board at "In a Pickle" I love breakfast – a great way to start the day and all that. I was never one to skip breakfast, even back in high school when it seemed to be the thing to do (I did often eat a pre-packaged Hostess apple “pie” with a Tab in the school cafeteria … those were the days!).
A few weeks ago, I read an article in The Boston Globe called “45 Best Breakfast Joints Around Boston.” The accompanying photo gallery has large splashy pics of the specialities for each of the restaurants — don’t look if you’re hungry, or you may find yourself abandoning the laptop to go rummage in the refrigerator (yes, I speak from experience).
Now, I’m not one to “read the list” when it comes to Top Ten for books, and I don’t attempt to read every Pulitzer Prize winner (or Booker, Orange, etc.). I do look at the lists and make a mental note about which I’ve read, which I’ll add to my list, etc.
 front row seats! But this breakfast list grabbed me – wouldn’t it be fun to try to hit as many of these restaurants as possible? I don’t think I’d get to them all — 45 is a big number; even if we had breakfast out every other week, it would take the better part of two years. But, it would be fun to try!
First up – “In a Pickle” on Main Street in Waltham. A friend and I drove in there yesterday for a mid-morning brunch. It’s in a fairly urban area, with metered parking in a garage around the corner. When I saw people loitering on the sidewalk I had a little suburban reaction – “we’re in the city!” It turns out that even at 9:45 in the morning the breakfast rush was still on, and these people were waiting for a seat.
 After putting our names on the wait list and getting our pager/buzzer, we went back out to the sidewalk to join the groups waiting in the sun (very nice on a cool Boston morning). Not five minutes later we we paged, and took seats at the counter – the best seats in the house, I tell you, as we had a front row view of the huge griddle and stovetop (ok, and a backside view of the cooks, who had nicely developed biceps from all that pancake flipping!).
 my Zorba omelet before ... The menu? Omelets, breakfast sandwiches, pancakes, etc. But, not the usual … how about coconut banana French toast? or pancakes stuffed with banana slices and warm toasted walnuts (said to be a favorite of the folks at Waltham City Hall)? or buckwheat waffles with fresh fruit? Gah! So many choices – and there’s a lunch menu, too!
I settled on a Zorba omelet – fresh spinach, ripe chopped tomatoes, sliced black olives, and Feta cheese. It was served with home fries (pass the Heinz ketchup!) and choice of toast (English muffin with orange marmalade, thankyouverymuch!). My friend ordered a Western omelet, which was equally delicious.
We left a $20 on the counter to cover the meals and service, happy to have “discovered” a new breakfast spot, and eager to bring the families back to try other items on the menu.
I’m also plotting the next square I’ll check on my Boston Breakfast Bingo Board … your suggestions?
 ... and after  For more kitchen goodness, visit Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking!
 Actually, not a break, but a sprain (which, the doctors say – and I agree – can be as uncomfortable as a break).
Today’s blog post is this colorful picture and a “oh, poor me” explanation of why the blog may be dark for a week or so. Typing one-handed is such a drag, and I don’t have posts pre-scheduled this week.
The good news is that this injury doesn’t keep me from reading (books or blogs), and opposable thumbs make it easy to unwrap leftover Easter chocolate with only one hand!
See you back here soon …
 I did not make this cake!
My neighbor Sue baked it. You remember Sue, the ultimate hostess, like Martha Stewart (but much nicer! and she’s never done jail time!). Those genes have passed through her family - her niece Monica decorated the bunny.
Isn’t it wonderful!?
I took this picture just before my Little Guy cut into the left ear … ouch!
A quick primer:
- bake two 8- or 9-inch round layer cakes
- allow to cool, then cut one according to the diagram (I was able to draw that; which explains why the ears are different sizes)
- arrange bunny face, ears, and tie on platter, then decorate to your heart’s content
- enjoy!
For more kitchen goodness, visit Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking!
 This week’s Spotlight on Bookstores is written by Jessica Maria Tuccelli. Ms. Tuccelli is the author of Glow, a novel set in the south over about century (1836-1941). It encompasses Cherokee lore, racial prejudice, and the anxiety of pre-WWII US.
 Photo credit Shirin Tinati Publisher’s Weekly says ““In Tuccelli’s sweeping debut, mothers and daughters are fiercely tethered over six generations and beyond death . . . [The] elaborately woven plot serves the story well, peppering the novel with moments of lingering beauty and shocking violence.”
Not only is Glow high on my to-be-read list, but after reading Ms. Tuccelli’s essay, Three Lives & Company is high on my to-be-visited list! The “old fashioned” charm of the store, the knowledgable staff, and the atmosphere of (in Tuccelli’s words) “a shop, not a store,” call to me. My next trip to New York will include a visit to Greenwich Village and Three Lives & Company!
Read more about Jessica Maria Tuccelli and Glow on her website or visit her Facebook page.
Sunday, March 4, 2012. 3:30PM
The entrance harkens back to a different era. From the corner of 10th Street and Waverly Place, I pass through bronze-knobbed, red-framed, glass-paned double doors. The cacophony of taxi horns and fire engine sirens behind me, I cross the threshold into a sanctuary for books and the people who love them, Three Lives & Company, founded in 1968 by three women and named for a Gertrude Stein novella.
Even the ampersand in the shop’s moniker stimulates my sense of nostalgia. (Originally a ligature of the letters e and t—“et” is the Latin word for “and”—the ampersand dates back to early Roman times.) Do not be mistaken; this is a shop, not a store. Within a mere 800 square feet, soft tungsten light spills from green glass lamps onto bookcases and hardwood floors as worn as the tin ceiling above, the latter a reminder of the building’s age, close to a hundred years. Music—a mix of classical, folk, acoustic guitar, jazz—woos me, inviting me to connect to times and places other than my own, precisely what I desire when I am selecting a book, which is what I have set out to do this blustery winter afternoon.
This is the first time I have noticed these details in depth. For years I have been drawn to Three Lives & Company, purchasing most of my books here, and yet I never stopped to consider why I found the experience so satisfying. By nature and profession, I am an observer, a recorder of detail. In this case, however, the details, seamless and seductive, had eluded me, an indication of how well designed the space is, how welcoming and knowledgeable the staff is, how well presented the books are.
From behind the sales desk someone always welcomes me. Often, it is the proprietor, Toby Cox. A bespectacled, sinewy man, he purchased the shop from the founders eleven years ago, not long after I moved to Greenwich Village. New to the neighborhood, I discovered it upon a walk familiarizing myself with my environs. Wherever I have lived, I have sought the comfort of an independent bookstore. In an indie, the salespeople love books as much as the customers. An indie is part of the community, and creates its own community within. This particular afternoon, we are ten customers, and I overhear conversations about book reviews, Leonard Lopate, publishing, and teaching. Toby and his associate, Carol, seem to know everyone here. The atmosphere is cozy, as if I were in a good friend’s home or an English college professor’s proverbial study, but without the disorder. No, here is where order is found: According to Toby, Jenny Feder, one of the founders, designed the layout of the shop and built the bookcases herself to allow the books to speak for themselves: In the front of the shop, all hardcover fiction and non-fiction titles are displayed face out so that the customer can enjoy the cover artwork. In the back of the shop are cupboard-like nooks the perfect height for scanning the paperbacks they contain. In front of one of the nooks is a wooden stool with a red cushion, my favorite spot to sit and thumb through my stack of potential purchases, which is what I do now.
Once I make my selection, The Art of Fielding for me, the new Nathan Englander collection of short stories for my husband, I proceed to the checkout desk. As one of two youthful clerks rings up my purchase, Erik Tobias Quam peers out at us from a 1910 black-and- white photograph. Quam was Toby’s great-grandfather and namesake, and the photograph is his talisman, watching over Toby and the shop. I am grateful to both.
Before I leave, I take a long view of the shop, deliberately drinking in all its delicious details: two old typewriters, a portrait of Virginia Woolf, bookends in the shape of the front and back ends of a dachshund, a bowl of reading glasses (for use, not for sale), and a sampler bearing the words of Thomas Jefferson: “I cannot live without books.” I could not agree more.
- Little Princes by Conor Grennan
- Paperback: 320 pages
- Publisher: William Morrow Paperbacks; Reprint edition (December 27, 2011)
- ISBN-13: 978-0061930065
Who and what is the book about (back-of-the-book blurb): An astonishing testament to true courage, the transformative power of love, and the ability of one man to make a real difference.
In search of adventure, twenty-nine-year-old Conor Grennan embarked on a yearlong journey around the globe, beginning with a three-month stint volunteering at an orphanage in civil war–torn Nepal. But a shocking truth would forever change his life: these rambunctious, resilient children were not orphans at all but had been taken from their families by child traffickers who falsely promised to keep them safe from war before abandoning them in the teeming chaos of Kathmandu. For Conor, what started as a footloose ramble became a dangerous, dedicated mission to unite youngsters he had grown to love with the parents they had been stolen from — a breathtaking adventure, as Conor risked everything in the treacherous Nepalese mountains to bring the children home.
Where and when does it take place: Little Princes begins in the summer of 2004, when Conor Grennan began a 3-month volunteer post at an orphanage in Nepal. He’s frank in saying that this was the first stop a planned year-long around-the-world trip; he had left his “day job” and was looking to travel and have fun. He did travel and have fun, but not in the ways he expected. He also encountered a horrible truth, and was motivated to make a change.
Little Princes Children’s Home is in Godavari, a village only six miles from Kathmandu. That six miles makes the difference between a busy, loud, crowded space and a rural, remote, slower-paced existence.
What would I say to a friend who asked me about it: Conor Grennan had no previous experience with kids – he wasn’t sure how to interact with these youth. The universality of kicking around a ball, pick-up games, and human interaction soon had him connecting with the children at Little Princes Children’s Home.
One day (through an event that had me reaching for Kleenex – the first of many times I was emotionally struck during this read), Grennan realized that these children were not all orphans. Many had been taken from their families during the civil war by child traffickers. In exchange for a family’s entire savings, they promised to keep the child safe; instead, many were abandoned in the jungle. That civil war was still going on when Grennan arrived in Kathmandu – it began in 1996, ran ten years, and claimed over 13,000 casualties.
I was pulled in by the story that Grennan unfolded, and followed closely his quest to reunite the children of Little Princes with their birth families. His determination, often in the face of setbacks, showed what a struggle there is in the area, even today. Color photos of the children, their homes, and rural Nepal, add a sense of “documentary” to the book.
This is not only the story of Conor Grennan and the children of Little Princes, it’s a contemporary history lesson, and an important book.
However … Grennan met his wife while in Nepal, and we watch as that courtship unfolds. I’m all for romance, and I understand that Liz is an integral part of Next Generation Nepal, but I could have used a little bit less about their relationship (sorry if that makes me sound like a curmudgeon!)
Why did I read it: I read an early copy of the book before its hardcover publication in February 2011 (paperback came out in December 2011). A bookshop customer was talking about his disappointment in Greg Mortenson (Three Cups of Tea) after last year’s scandal, and I offered Grennan’s Little Princes as a way to redeem the genre. That reminded me that – although I recommended it on last year’s Newburyport Lit Fest panel – I had yet to put my thoughts down on the blog.
A few favorite passages: From the very first chapter, Grennan looks back at his attitude and expectations before he left the US. I love this passage because he’s basically laughing at himself and how out of touch he was with what he was about to encounter:
“An orphanage in Nepal, for two months,” I would tell women I’d met in bars. “Sure, there’s a civil war going on. And yes, it might be dangerous. But I can’t think about that,” I would shout over the noise of the bar, trying to appear misty-eyed. “I have to think about the children.”
And this gives you a sense of the desperation parents felt; they would do anything, give all that they had, to keep their children from getting into the hands of the Maoist rebels [p.77]:
[His] mother and father begged [the child trafficker] to take their children. It would be expensive, they understood, but they would pay anything. To raise the money, they sold their home and moved into single-room huts with their neighbors. They sold their land, their livestock. They borrowed from distant relatives. They would be going into debt for the rest of their lives, putting the rest of their family at risk, but it was worth every rupee to save their boys from the Maoist army. In villages throughout Humla, other parents were taking the same drastic step to save their children.
What else can I add: The paperback edition was issued in December 2011; it’s a good choice for book discussion groups, with a Reading Guide to Little Princes available online. You can also find more information about Next Generation Nepal, the organization Grennan founded in 2006. NGN’s mission statement is: “Next Generation Nepal preserves family unity and strengthens communities by reconnecting trafficked children with their parents and culture in post-conflict Nepal.”
My friend Kristine alerted me to the International Edible Book Festival, which is held around April 1 in many countries around the globe. The idea is to make consumable book-themed food. Their website seems to need a little updating (no info for the 2012 Fest), but the photos from previous years are fun to look at – very creative!
All this reminded me that I’ve yet to share what our family had for dinner to celebrate Pi Day on March 14.
Well, it was Wednesday, which you know is “Prince Spaghetti Day” in our house (such creatures of habit!), so I made Spaghetti Pie! We had it with salad, and topped it off with a delicious apple pie from Verrill Farm. Oh. so. good. (the apple pie; I could “take it or leave it” as far as the spaghetti pie goes, but the kids got a kick out of it).
Spaghetti Pie
Ingredients (we’re a family of 6; I used a 1 pound box of spaghetti, doubled the other ingredients, and made two ‘pies.’ The kids had it for lunch a few days later):
- 6 oz. spaghetti, cooked
- 2 Tbsp. olive oil
- 2 eggs, well beaten
- 3/4 cup Parmesan cheese, divided
- 1 cup whole milk ricotta cheese
- 1 1/2 cups pasta sauce, divided
- 1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
Directions:
- Toss spaghetti with olive oil in large bowl. Stir in eggs, 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, and 1/2 cup pasta sauce. Pour spaghetti mixture into greased 10-inch pie plate; form into a crust.
- Spoon ricotta cheese over spaghetti crust. Top with pasta sauce. Bake in preheated 350°F oven 25 minutes. Top with Mozzarella cheese. Bake 5 minutes more or until cheese is melted. Sprinkle with remaining Parmesan cheese. Cool 10 minutes before cutting.
For other kitchen stories – recipes, cookbook reviews, discussion of food-themed movies, etc., turn to Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking.
 Maybe I’m a *bit* biased, but isn’t this the cutest?!
My six-month-old niece is “reading!” (OK, technically she’s my great-niece, but that puts me on a grandmother level generationally, and I don’t want to consider that!).
 Have you seen this book jacket around on the blogs, in book reviews, or at your local bookstore? It’s Seré Prince Halverson’s debut novel, The Underside of Joy. Seré lives in northern California with her husband; prior to publishing the novel (Penguin/Dutton, January 2012), she had been working as a freelance copywriter and writing fiction in her “spare time” for 20 years while raising their four children.
Here’s a little bit about the novel, which Publishers Weekly calls “a lovely picture of smalltown life and intimate family drama…Nuanced characters and lack of cliché make for a winning debut.”:
To Ella Beene, happiness means living in the Northern California river town of Elbow with her husband, Joe, and his two young children. For three years, Ella has been the only mother the kids have known. But when Joe drowns off the coast, his ex-wife shows up at his funeral, intent on reclaiming the children.
Rather than the fairy tale version of step-motherhood that pits good against evil, The Underside of Joy explores a complex relationship between two women who both consider themselves to be the children’s mother. Their conflict uncovers a map of scars — physical and emotional — to their families’ deeply buried tragedies.
Seré’s local bookstore happens to be Copperfield’s Books in Sebastopol, California (the town, she tells us strives for “Local Flavor. Global Vision”), which offered to host the launch party for The Underside of Joy. It looks like it was quite a party!
Read on for her story about that very special day. You’re also invited to “friend” her on Facebook, visit Seré Prince Halverson’s website, or subscribe to her blog (with the wonderful name of “Who Moved My Buddha?”).
About an hour and a half north of San Francisco, in my quaint, quirky town of Sebastopol, along Main Street (of course), in the old Five & Dime building (no less) sits Copperfield’s Books. It is a warm inviting place held dear by this community, which is known for its “Local Flavor. Global Vision.” What better epitomizes that tagline than the town’s independent bookstore?
But as an unpublished writer for many years (make that decades), I will admit that I experienced a bittersweet longing whenever I stepped into any bookstore. I love books. Of course I do. I love to buy them. Love to read them. Love to inhale their scent, flip through their pages, return to favorite passages.
And yet, the first thing that hit me whenever I set foot inside a bookstore? The reminder that there were so many books, and alas, mine was not among them. I would pick up a new release, look at the author photo, wonder what special something that author possessed that I did not. As much as I treasured Copperfield’s, its warm lighting and knowledgeable staff, its thoughtful recommendations, compelling displays and inviting chairs, I still experienced that old bookstore ache when I walked through the door, wishing my book might grace the store shelves, or even sit perched in the big front window. But ache be damned, through that door I walked anyway, again and again. Because what writer can resist any bookstore, especially one as lovely as Copperfield’s?
Then last February, my novel, The Underside of Joy sold to Dutton. Miracle of all miracles, I would finally be published. (I will refrain from including the 5000 or so words I could write here about what this felt like.) But I will tell you that throughout the year prior to its publication, my editor forwarded me enthusiastic feedback about my book. One letter came in from a woman named Katie Kasben, who happened to be the events coordinator at Copperfield’s. I’d never met Katie, but her letter brought tears to my eyes.
When we did meet at another author’s reading, we hugged and gushed, and then she said, “I want to have your book launch party at Copperfield’s. And I want it to be a picnic with food from the book!”
I nodded and said, “Okay!” While inside I thought, I am so grateful I want to bow down at your blessed feet.
Flash forward to the week of my book launch. Katie and I had already met for coffee and come up with a game plan. She gathered checkered tablecloths and various necessary picnic items and treats, while my husband, Stan, and my sister, Suzanne worked hard making stuffed sandwiches and Elbow macaroni salad, named for the fictional town of Elbow.
And me? I got my hair done. Because that’s what about-to-be-published authors do two days before their book launches. While my hairstylist also worked feverishly on my behalf, my son sent me a text. I opened it. And this is what I saw:
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What a moment.
As soon as I could get my newly coiffed self to the bookstore, I had another moment. It was so perfectly fitting that the first time I would ever see my book in a bookstore, it would be in Copperfield’s.
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The next day, I had another moment.
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(The dear Katie Kasben introducing me.)
And yet another.
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The San Francisco 49ers were in the playoffs for the first time in a gazillion years, so I figured we’d have maybe 30 people. Over 100 showed up. Because that’s what kind of community Sebastopol is, and that’s what kind of bookstore Copperfield’s is–the kind that makes an author like me truly, truly grateful.
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(Old friends from high school)
Thank you so much, Seré, for sharing your special day with us!
Readers of She Is Too Fond of Books may recall that Margot from Joyfully Retired wrote about her fun visit to Copperfield’s in a Spotlight post three years ago; each reader’s experience with a bookstore is unique, like our interpersonal relationships. And, like our relationships with books and what we learn about ourselves when we read them – all indications are that The Underside of Joy is ripe with conversation starters for book groups.
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I’m back from #booktopiaVT – that’s the twitter hashtag for the 3-day ‘readers retreat’ for listeners of the Books on the Nightstand podcast. We spent Friday thru Sunday in gorgeous Manchester, Vermont; three inns and the rambling Northshire Bookstore were the venues for intimate sessions that brought authors and readers together.
Connect!