Fuel for the Fire

His face looked familiar, but I couldn’t place the name. He picked up my latest book, The Care Card, and I started to give him my ten-second pitch.

I was at the Southwest Florida Reading Festival in Ft. Myers, FL, where I had a booth for the event. Three of my books are set in the city where I once lived and worked, so I have a genuine affinity for the area.

Holding on to my book, he said, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

I studied his smiling face, but still nothing clicked. “Your face is familiar, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“I’m Mike,” he said, pointing to The Medicine Game, my first book. “I bought your book last year, and I loved it. It was really good.” He handed me The Care Card, and said, “I want this one.”

I shook his hand, rang up the sale, and signed his book, thanking him for coming back this year and telling him how much I appreciated his kind words.

A great way to start the day, I thought, after he left and another person stepped up. I enjoy meeting and talking with readers and fans almost as much as I enjoy writing. The traffic was non-stop, busy, but energizing and rewarding.

Later that day, Mike came back and picked up The Pill Game. “I’ve walked around and looked at all the books here, and I still think yours are the best. I want to get this one, too.”

“Mike,” I said, as I asked if I could get a picture with him. “Thank you so much. You made my day.”

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