So, this weekend was the Bay Area Book Fair, and I had one of the individual author’s tables. My agoraphobia was racing, my nerves were dancing. I gave serious thought to not going. But in the end, my determination beat my agoraphobia again and I set off with a big bag of books, got on
I’m not really sure where January, February, March, April and May have all gotten themselves off to, but I hope they’re having fun. It seems like just a day or two ago I was struggling to remember to write 2017 on things instead of 2016 (or the inexplicable occasions where I wrote 1996….what?), and here
I have a confession to make. I have never been to a book festival or convention or other celebration of books. Not as a reader, certainly not as a writer. Some of the reasons for this are fundamental issues of who I am, namely the agoraphobic part of who I am. Large crowds, even mediocre
