Monday, November 19, 2007

When Truth Becomes A Dream

It has finally happened. The reality of peddling books has entered my dreams.


THE DREAM

With a crowd of others, I was waiting for the train to come. Patty and her daughters were also waiting. As the train approached, I realized that I did not have a single copy of my book with me. Without mentioning it to anyone, I dashed home, picked up two copies, and ran back to the train station. The train was already loaded and pulling out, but I was able to hop onto the caboose as it passed.

Though everyone seemed to know each other, I did not recognize anyone. Every passenger was a middle-aged woman, dressed in 1930's fashion (dark-colored, rayon dresses with full skirts accented only by white bobby sox). I soon realized that each lady had a book in her hand. They were highly intelligent, discussing their own piece of literary excellence. It did not take me long to realize the passengers were all authors. It did dawn on me that they might speak to me if I could introduce them to Jessie.

I set about trying to locate where I had laid my copies. When, at last, I spotted my book, there was only one copy. After searching diligently, I noticed a person standing like the Statue of Liberty. Instead of bearing the torch, she was holding up my book and stating, "Don't read this. It is not a true story." That is when I realized that all of the other's books were nonfiction. And since I have wavered between calling my literary piece of work "fact" or "fiction," I declared, "That is why I have always called it non-fiction." Then I walked to the next car and found my daughter and her youngest sitting in wicker seats. They refused to pay me any heed.

REALITY

John had shared with his class on Proverbs that he will be taking a train trip with Patty and the girls and other home-schooling folks.

Over our weekly dinner, before studying the Bible together, three other ladies and I were discussing a monthly book club they attend. Next month, the book of choice will be Jessie. I will be present at the critiquing session, and my Christian sisters are concerned that my feelings will be hurt by some of the "honest" comments.

As John and I left for an appointment, I realized there were no copies of the book in my car so I ran back inside to get one book. One never knows when someone will want to ask about it.

The only thing missing in reality is my hopping on a caboose. Stay tuned!

Friday, November 2, 2007

Happy Anniversary

November 1st marked the first anniversary of my personally selling Jessie's Story. I know that several people had already ordered from Lulu and that other copies were "out there." However, this was the date I opened the box from Lulu and accepted money for a copy. The first customer was Judy.

According to Lulu.com, 979 copies have now been sold. This count is off by 10 because I pushed an order button twice and had to request a refund for those. It also is not quite accurate because, especially in the beginning, I hated to ask for money and gave away many. By far, the biggest customer has been the Eagle Historical Society & Museum (350 copies). The original price I set was $15. Lulu changed that to $15.99, and I altered that price personally to $16 in order to not have to deal with the pennies people refused in change. At charitable auctions, two copies went for a combined total of $1,100 and, more recently, $45 was the winning bid in Sitka.

If you think I penned the story of the life of Jessie Fox alone, you are gladly mistaken. You may quote me: "It took the Lord and an army greater than Gideon's final count." Many of the behind-the-scenes workers I mention in the acknowledgement section of the book. However, myriad others should have been named. A few that come to mind are

Vetta, who was the very first reader of the rough manuscript who encouraged me to keep going. She always knew how to ask the right question.

a hubby who drove me all over tarnation searching for a book or a clue or a grave or a salt shaker or a camper or, quite literally, the ends of the earth and the top of the world.

a daughter who prodded me to keep writing and designed eight covers before the final product. At the going rate of $85 an hour for her fine work, I figure I owe her around $10,000.

a son who set me up with a corner of his wonderful website, www.wyattjourney.com/jessie.

a son who designed a postcard for advertising.

a stranger who owns a tea shoppe, who gave me encouragement and space for a lovely evening of book-signing.

a local Dairy Queen owner who not only allowed me to launch the book on her premises, but even put the event on her marquee.

strangers along the AlCan and Cassiar Highways who believed my story enough to purchase a book.

a christian brother whose wife was just beginning radical treatment for cancer, who took time to share his equipment and expertise for framing some special photos.

the residents of Eagle and Eagle Village who put me in a position I never would have dreamed of and made me feel so welcome.

those who tackled the labourious task of teaching me about keeping financial records.

the few wonderful souls who took time and effort to write reviews of the book on Lulu.com.

the many who either wrote to me or told me how they loved her story.

Who would have ever dreamed the turn my life's road has taken as I approach my 65th birthday? and my 44th wedding anniversary? and my 2nd year with the book?

I thank God for every remembrance...