MARGARET DILLOWAY

Picture it: Star Wars, 1977. Lines snaking around the block. Okay, well, that’s a little bit bigger than my book launch, but that’s the idea of it.  It was a standing-room only crowd at Barnes & Noble Grossmont (La Mesa), the biggest event they’d ever had.  They sold out of books and the manager drove to another B&N to get more.

Everyone came: my first grade teacher, my 8th grade English teacher, the middle school librarian, my mom’s group, friends of friends…there were even people I had no affiliation with, who’d bought the book and saw I was coming.

Even my friend Jen and her hubby came out…with their newborn…born the SATURDAY BEFORE.  That is less than a week prior and they still made it out.  I’m sorry, but their devotion trumps all other excuses.  Now I will only accept loss of limb in the hour prior as an excuse.  Nothing else.

After my talk and reading, lines formed on either side of my table.

When I was in school, I’d know who kids were just from the yearbook photos.  This kind of memory served me well at the book launch, as I remembered everyone from Facebook and what they were up to.  Except for this one lady, whose name I completely blanked on.  I remembered lots of other details about her (what she’s working on, her four kids, where she lives, etc. etc.) but her name came up blank.  Oh well.

Everyone said I spoke well, even this one lady who’s a friend of my mother-in-law’s and who is known for Speaking Her Mind.  She is not a sugar-coater, this lady.  If this lady says I did well, then I can trust that I did well.  And I think I’m getting better about closing my eyes.