Dropping Books Off

This morning the Butcher and I dropped all the books I have in the world, except two, off at the Southern Festival of Books. If you have never been to a conference before, the most fun part is when people are getting ready. Today, for the Southern Festival of Books, is no exception. Large men were hoisting tables already stacked with books into position. More large men were yanking large ropes that sent banners up into the air. Police chatted amiably with people parking quasi-illegally along Charlotte to unpack.

And there went my books. Off into the hands of people who will put them on long tables.

And we will all hope someone who might like it will pick it up and bring it home.

Tomorrow, I have the stage for a whole hour. I’m supposed to be spending some time today figuring out what to read.

I’m excited. I hope people come. My parents will be there, so, if you’re in Nashville, and you’ve ever been curious about who would raise me up, you can meet them. My secret goal is to make my mom scream or yelp or something. That would be awesome.

7 thoughts on “Dropping Books Off

  1. Ooh, do we get to ask questions, too? I asked Frank DeFord a question, but he didn’t understand what I was actually asking, and I think he thought I was a dolt. I promise, if we get to ask you questions, I’ll try to come up with something intelligent. I don’t want Mom B and Dad B to think your friends are dolts.

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