PAID IN KIND

Yesterday was my first author event of the year. I sold half the books I did at the same event last year, and while I wished I’d had a bigger “payday,” I feel blessed that I was paid in other ways. And remember, you can’t tell my husband, but I’m not driven by money. However, I love hearing from a reader: I loved your book!

I’ve written before about feeling blessed by tips and tidbits from other authors. I also enjoy meeting people, whether they buy my books or not, and brainstorming with someone interested in becoming an author.

This event brought yet another opportunity to see how I continue to be paid in different ways.

When I started my Stoneybrook Mystery Series, which I write to honor my son, Derrick, I had already chosen the name of my fictional Oregon town. To my surprise and joy, I found myself sharing the story behind the name with two couples.

First, the story …

Randy and I attend the Oregon Jamboree in Sweet Home, Oregon, every August. It’s an annual country music festival that has brought such stars to Oregon as Toby Keith and Reba McIntire to the stage. I like to tell people who ask about the festival that we were lucky enough to see Kenny Chesney “before” he became four-time “Entertainer of the Year” winner, Kenny Chesney.

We also love Sweet Home’s small-town charm, even when 45,000 people flood the town during the three-day concert. Since we’ve attended the event over the last twenty years, we’ve secured a premium campsite across the street from the venue entrance.

I’m a people person and am still friends with people I met in the first few years of this fabulous weekend. Three young women were among those friends. The trio adopted us as their Jamboree Parents and spent time at our campsite.

One Saturday night after the concert ended, I was enjoying a nightcap with some of my friends in my RV. There was a knock on the door. It was one of the trio who said she’d been separated from the other two. I invited her in, and she joined us as we had snacks and drinks. Her phone rang, and this was her end of the conversation:

“You guys left me while I was in the port-a-potty.”
“No. I’m not going to walk there by myself; you all need to come here.”
“At the Stoneybrook’s.”

She ended the call, then offered an impish grin when we all stared at her.

“Stoneybrook’s?” I said.
“Well, that’s what we call you guys cause you’re old.” She laughed. “Stoneybrook is the name of the old folks’ home by our house in Corvallis.”
We all had a good laugh, and though my friends and I were far from “old” all those years ago, the moniker stuck!

At my event yesterday, an older couple stopped at my table and asked about “Redneck Ranch,” Book One in the Stoneybrook Mystery Series. I launched into my well-rehearsed spiel, and when I said, “When Harley arrives in Stoneybrook, Oregon—” the man cut in with, “Do you mean the Stoneybrook Senior Living Center in Corvallis?”

I responded with, “Funny, you should ask?” Then, I launched into my story.

About an hour later, a young couple came by and asked about “Redneck Ranch,” and I began my pitch again. This time, the wife told me she works as a Stoneybrook Senior Living Center nurse. We laughed when I told them of my previous visitors, explaining how they’d suggested I ask the center about doing an Author Event for the residents. The wife gave me her phone number and asked me to contact her this coming week because she thought an Author Event was a fabulous idea.

No books were sold to these two couples, but I feel like Derrick sent them my way. Not only did I get to share how Derrick inspired the character of an autistic deputy sheriff who always solves the crimes in my Stoneybrook Mystery Series, but I might now have an opportunity to tell this wonderful story to a room full of Stoneybrook’s.

As amazing as meeting these two couples was, Derrick wasn’t done sending people to my table.

An event like this author fair is designed to attract all types of readers who can peruse various genres. Guests can wander throughout a large room that this year housed 42 authors. We all have the same goal: to attract readers to our tables in hopes that they will buy our books. But now and then, you encounter a reader with whom you share more than an interest in reading.

When Tom and Judy stopped to look at my Mexico Mayhem series, I waited a beat before engaging them in conversation since Judy was reading the back cover blurb for “Peril in Paradise.”

Judy looked at me, tears in her eyes, and said, “How could you write a book about someone losing a child if you’ve never had that experience?”

Tom placed an arm around Judy’s shoulder and drew her close.

“I-I—” a lump clogged my throat, “have lost a child.”

Judy reached out a hand and touched my arm. “We lost our son, Matthew, five years ago.”
“I lost my son, Derrick, eight years ago.”
“Oh,” Judy nodded, “so you do know.”
“Yes.” I squeezed her hand. “How did you lose Matthew?”
“He needed a heart transplant that never happened.” Judy swiped a tear from her cheek. “He left us just after his forty-fourth birthday.”
“Derrick had a sudden heart attack at thirty-six,” I told her.

We talked for a few minutes about our sons, and then I asked Judy if she would mind if I sent her and Tom a pair of White Wings. I explained that I’d been gifting the wings and a poem about grieving parents to people like us.

“That would be so kind of you.” Judy smiled. “And I’d like to buy this book since Clara is a mom like us who also belongs to this sad club.”

I sold Judy “Peril in Paradise,” and she gave me her mailing address. I may never see Tom and Judy again, but I’m comforted that they will have a pair of White Wings to honor their son … and maybe even remind them of me.

My first event wasn’t as lucrative as I’d hoped, but I value the “payments in kind” from the fabulous people who brought me opportunities for the future … and a moment to share my grief with another mother.

If you participate in Author Events this year, I hope you will be richer in more than one way.

Happy Writing, Ladies ~ Kimila