With some trepidation, I boarded an airplane for the first time in three years. Masks required in the airport and on the planes where I swear the seats and aisles were even narrower than before--or maybe I gained weight during Covid. My destination was lovely Savannah for a mother/daughter trip. Once landed, I saw few wore masks which made me glad I'd been vaccinated and boosted as the city was crowded with traffic and tourists.
Now, when I travel I always carry with me a selection of book cards, postcard-sized with my book covers on one side and a blurb, a listing of all my titles, and contact information on the back. I give these out at every opportunity. Before I got off the plane, I'd handed one to my seatmate who had an actual book in her hands. Generally, I ask what a person is reading, explaining that I am interested because I am a retired librarian. Gradually, I work my own books into the conversation and try to pick out a card the reader might be interested in. Not everyone wants a sexy guy card, so I also carry pretty covers for others. Occasionally, I am rebuffed, and if so, simply go back to reading my own book.
By the time my daughter picked me up, the day had turned rainy. We decided to get a hot cup of tea and shortbread cookies at the Tea Room. We took our time, talked to the very knowledgeable server, and stayed an hour and a half because no one else was in the place, though seeing us having such a good time, customers did start showing up, getting tea to go. The conversation turned to reading, and as it turned out, our server loved romance novels. Needless to say, I gave her a card, too.
Next stop, the indie bookstore just around the corner as it was still raining and not great for strolling on brick sidewalks. At Shaver's, two fluffy cats greeted us or at least deemed to accept a pet. We read the witty cards to each other and browsed the many small rooms. I did purchase one of Julia Quinn's Bridgerton novels and could absolutely envision my new Regency series shelved near them. As I checked out, I left another card for the manager in case she might want to consider adding my books to her inventory. Back home, I did follow up with an email and got a most gracious no due to limited shelf space which was kind of her. But, she had checked my web site and told me about a literary festival I might want to attend next year. Probably too far to travel and too expensive, but I'll consider it.
That evening with the rain still coming down, we met up with the rest of our mother/daughter group. Other than going out for dinner rather late, we stayed in and played UNO. I offered one of my books that I'd brought along as an UNO prize. I won the first hand, my daughter the second, until we finally got a winner on the third round. I personalized the book for the winner and gave out cards to the rest.
Next day, more rain. We got tickets on an on-and-off bus to get around, toured the cathedral and had lattes at a little coffee shop across the street before hopping on the tram again to get to the waterfront for shopping and a late lunch of shrimp dishes. Still raining,. my daughter was sheltering me with a little, folding umbrella. Out of the blue or rather gray sky, a man with a much larger umbrella offered to trade with her. He said he had plenty as his company gave them out. We took his offer.
Despite the weather, we were not deterred from going on our Ghost Tour that evening. The rain added to the ghostly atmosphere, dripping from the Spanish moss and slicking the gravestones in the cemetery. We weren't required to get down, but did have a rest stop at a bar and were allowed to bring drinks aboard. I heard a few tales I could work into plots if I ever do another ghost story other than The Courville Rose. The guide loved to read. I left a card for her along with a tip for a fun experience.
The sun returned on our last day. All wanted to go to the beach. I am not fond of hot sand, murky water, and sunburn. I elected to stay in the beach pavilion where I had food, water, a bathroom, and plenty of people to talk to--about books. Also amusing, the pigeons and grackles courted and stole food from the unsuspecting. A fisherman pulled a three-foot shark from the water near my friends. We rejoined to go to a great pizza dive for dinner, then a cocktail-making class at the Prohibition Museum, fun and interesting though I don't drink much. By the time, I boarded the plane to return, I'd nearly run out of book cards.
Some people are tickled to meet a real author. Others might just be polite enough to accept a card and throw them out first chance, but some will use them as bookmarks. No telling if I will get any sales out of this. But I would say don't leave home without yours.
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