The Writing Life, revisited
I shared a space with a young man and his daughter; he and his wife homeschool their five children, go to a PCA church, and were very pleasant. They have children's books and were smart enough to have an area for children to color.
Me, I borrow a table from a friend, made a poster, set up my books and sat in a lawn chair. I chatted up customers and sold one book, but I also directed them to cheaper copies on Amazon, so maybe that will build good will.
My favorite (not) visitor to my table was an old guy who, when I asked him what he was interested in, said, "Do you have anything smutty?" Who says "smutty" nowadays. I also met an older woman who, I think, responded to God recently but had a lot of misconceptions. I am reminded of the story of the man healed from blindness who first saw men as trees walking. Even conversion can't get our worldview straight instantaneously; it might take years, which is the whole point of growth.
I saw some writer friends and colleagues. I got some business cards related to my real job. I saw the mayor of Chattanooga (there is just something about politicians in a crowd).
So, despite selling just one book, it wasn't a waste and I'm glad I went, but I'm exhausted now from the heat. I do these things about once a year. Writing requires a huge chunk of time marketing, which I just can't do. I do hope I get "discovered" sometime.