It’s been a busy couple of days.
Two book signings. Two books to be signed. Two very different venues and very different audiences.

At the Grolier Poetry Bookshop

Friday afternoon at The Grolier Poetry Bookshop in Harvard Square. This is a wonderful, old-style bookshop. Shelves full of books. That’s it. No coffee. No computers. No comfy chairs. Just walls full of bookshelves and three people who own and run the place, poets and poetry lovers all. I was set up in a corner by the door, with copies of my poetry book, Her Life Collected, on display and a black music stand. By the cash register was a shelf full of cookies, plastic cups, a jug of cider and a bottle of wine. The idea was that when people  happened to come in, I would talk to them and read a poem or two, “as the spirit moved.” A little free form for an A-type compulsive like me. But it was fabulous. There was a lot going on in Harvard Square that afternoon between the University’s 375 Anniversary celebrations, parents weekend and alumni events. And a place like the Grolier doesn’t necessarily get a lot of foot traffic. But over the course of a couple of hours I was able to meet plenty of poetry lovers and read about a dozen poems. Here’s how it worked. Someone would happen to find themselves in the shop, either because they knew about the event or, more likely, because they knew the shop or were intrigued by the window. I then introduced myself to them and chatted. If they were amenable, and most of the time they were, I would ask them a bit about themselves and then choose a poem from the book to read to them, for them. Now really — how often does a real, live poet stand there and read a poem to you, chosen especially for you? Not very often. And what a terrific connection it created with the listener who then, more often than not (I’m happy to say) became a buyer. It’s a great model for a reading, I think. I believe everyone who passed through those doors that afternoon had a positive experience.  I met loads of readers/poetry lovers I wouldn’t have met otherwise, I sold lots of books, the bookstore was happy. Thank you, Grolier, for having me. I can’t wait to come back!

At the Boston Book Festival

And then onto Saturday and the Boston Book Festival. A completely different, though equally rewarding kettle of fish. All day long at various venues around Boston’s Copley Square were workshops, lectures and book readings, mostly by very famous writers, mostly of non-fiction — one of the truths about publishing today, but that’s another discussion for another time. And then ringing the area were dozens of booths run by everything from bookshops to pr firms to non-profit writing groups to arts programs and schools. I was stationed in the booth of the book promotion company, Authoright, who has been helping me make some inroads into the US market. I was their “Example A” and I was thrilled to be. It gave me the opportunity to meet and talk to literally hundreds of people who came out on a sunny Boston afternoon to wander around and discover whatever they could about books and their writers. I sat there behind a table full of my books from 9 am to 5 pm and I talked…and talked…and talked.  And I sold books and connected with readers. Most people were interested in talking to a “real live writer” and ask how do you do it, is it hard to get published, when do you write, how long have you been writing. And although most were interested in my novel, A Clash of Innocents, there were poetry lovers there, too. It was exhausting but fascinating and it gave me yet a different way to connect with readers and even create some new fans. The other interesting point was to see how many people said they couldn’t afford to buy books right now. The economy in the States is as bad as anywhere and many people are un- or underemployed. Alas, book buying is a luxury for them. It was worse on the streets than I had realised. But nonetheless, I sold lots of copies of both books and gave away about a hundred postcards showing the novel’s cover and purchasing information. Yes, by the end of the day I was exhausted and cold. But I was happy and, to be honest, rather moved by the reception I received.

And now it’s Sunday, a day to rest up before I head out to New York City to see family for a couple of days before my two events in Connecticut. I’ll let you know how they go. Wish me luck — and hope I don’t get lost on the backroads and interstates.

Your Itinerant Writer, signing off for now.