Fragments From Floyd

There's been nary a nibble at PayPal the past couple of days and no checks are coming in the mail lately. I guess the web readers that provided the first surge of book orders all have their copy of Slow Road Home, and no gift-buying occasions loom (until Fathers Day, June 18--are you listening?). I am just starting the speaking engagements, but have been told by other writers not to expect great turnouts or many book purchases through those events; they are more of a good-will, for-your-information kind of thing. Even so, my original plan was to wait until the fall or winter to consider attempting to get the book carried by a distributor with outlets through the bigboxbookstores. Guess I'll stick with the plan.

I don't have the fears of multiple cartons of unsold books mildewing over in the barn. This first printing will eventually get sold. I should hear soon if any of the Blue Ridge Parkway outlets will carry the book; that would be good news, indeed. Next Friday, a radio essay will air, and the book will be mentioned. That should stir up a small number of orders, maybe.

But I'm in the chicken and egg conundrum stage of this thing. Even if the book is placed in dozens of bookstores in several states, if there is no interest and demand so that folks go in asking for the book, there's not much chance they would stumble across it among thousands by chance alone. But the cost of travel for media exposure or readings is huge, though this seems to be the best way of lifting the book up into the radar so there's enough awareness that the bookstores will actually send it off their shelves in some numbers. There must be other web and from-home avenues I've yet to tap. I'll have to say, this lull, while a bit discouraging, was necessary to let me get my legs back under me. I actually got back to writing a bit over the weekend. And I'm ready for today's Spoken Word event at Cafe del Sol (4:00 in downtown Floyd) and thinking again about working on the photo-book, the audio-project and some other future endeavors.

Hindsight, I'm finding now, is helpful for understanding what and why and how I have written--and maybe to help me know what I will write up ahead. Being able to see all that through the eyes of others who read the book and tell me about my stories and wanderings through their eyes is helping me get my bearings now better than during the times when the writing was happening, to gain altitude above the span of years, to look down on a path from some distance, to be able to see more than just the few steps behind and ahead. Perspective, I guess is the word. I'm appreciative of the fact that the journey goes on, even when it seems that I'm just standing still. Still, and still moving. Eh?