Anyway, on Indie day, authors worked in shifts, were asked to provide recommendations for customers, and given the opportunity to read from their own books. I was lucky enough to have two friends face a bitterly cold day and come out to support me, one of whom was visiting from New York, where he is an occasional soap opera actor and Broadway dancer. Now, at least one of my books is headed for the Big Apple. Yay!
Last year my closest writer friend died, and this year my critique group dissolved. Indie day was an opportunity to be with other writers as well as book buyers. Unfortunately for me, the writers were all men who knew each other, and I’m shy when it comes to breaking into groups. Also, I simply had nothing to say to the fellow who wrote about his girlfriend forgetting (maybe on purpose) to flush the toilet, and their urine comingling. I mean, who would have anything to offer, other than an uncomfortable laugh? And the story went one and one and on.