Of my books on the signing table.
“Are these complimentary?”
Of the topic of filicide.
“I can’t read this. I read The Lovely Bones and I hated it.”
Of my pitch that it’s about a man trying to understand his wife by way of understanding the family secrets and ancestors in her family.
“Oh, we all have black sheep in our family. My brother’s wife just left him and he’s now realizing it had something to do with her mother.”
Of my description of the book to a kind old man.
“Sounds good. Let me go ask my wife.”
Of my offer to sign a book for a woman.
“Oh, are you the author?”
Of my introduction to the next person who approached my table, “Hi, I’m the author Karen Harrington.”
“Hello the author Karen Harrington.”
Of the mints on my signing table.
“What are these for?”
Of the puzzle on my signing table?
“Why did you cut up your cover like that?”
Of the woman who ran over to my table with her hubby and told me her name was Jane.
Hubby: “If I read this, will I understand my wife better?”
Me: Huh Huh. Maybe. Here’s a bookmark.” (She leaves. Returns 10 mintues later.)
“OMG! My husband’s name is Tom!” (See, the couple in my book are Jane and Tom.)
Of my accidental penning “Very best pictures” (Doh! Should have written WISHES)
Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. We were talking about pictures, and, well, ha ha…well, if I become famous, one day this will be very valuable.”
Books sold: 43
Ratio of male/female purchasers: 30%/70%