Some days are like this: You are enjoying the last day of a dear friend’s visit, a friend who is also a fan and supporter of your writing, as you are of hers. You hesitate to walk her by the wonderful bookshop backstory to say, This is where I did that event last fall – your hesitation is because there are so many other things to show her in fabulous Barcelona, but you go anyway. Your son is with you. C’mon, Mom, he says, as your friend says, I can’t believe you would even think I would not want to go, as you all walk in the bookstore and scatter, enjoying it. You look around for your books and can’t find them and you ask the young woman at the desk if there are any books by — and you say your name but don’t tell her it’s your name and she looks it up and she says yes, and takes you to the section and fingers through it like playing spines like a piano and is unable to find it so you assume it is sold out and she says, wait. Then another woman comes from another direction and says, here, yes, we have a copy left, and you thank her and ask where it was and she says up front on the table of writers we highlight, and then she says but you are the author, aren’t you? and you smile and say yes and she tells you that she organized the event, the conversation you had with a fabulous librarian and that she was disappointed that she couldn’t be there. She tells you this while you notice and smile at the company of authors your book is keeping. Your friend sees your book and wants to photograph you in front of it. The woman who handed it to you wants to join in and post it on social media, she says. You offer to sign it, afterwards, and she rushes back with a signed copies sign. A woman you recognized from afar when you entered and have been meaning to say hello to comes from the back of the shop and greets you and says, you wrote a book? and you say, yes, two. You introduce her to your friend as this woman picks up the copy of I am home. and tucks it between arm and chest snugly. You substitute taught at the school where this woman teaches Spanish a year ago and this is the first time you have seen her in almost a year. She was so present and supportive, you tell your friend. How is that she didn’t know about your books? your friend asks and you say, what am I supposed to do? go around telling people about my books when I first meet them?
Your friend rests her palm on your back as you leave, flanked by her and your son. That was the perfect ending to my fantastic stay. It was so exciting and inspiring to see your book in a bookstore. And then to watch you sign it and to watch it fly off the shelf! You might start telling people around here about your books and where they can get them. Just sayin’.
Lucy, go see. I am home. backstory bookshop.
Marianne Maili 