As part of marketing my book, I have been going to local libraries to ask if they will add my book to their catalog and/or allow me to do a reading for them. For me, bringing my book to a library completes the circle that started before I could puzzle out the words on a page. For it was the library of my childhood that fueled my interest in reading, and reading that turned me into a writer.
I must admit, I don’t spend as much time in libraries as I used to. They have made it too easy to download books onto my Kindle. But being back inside these special, physical spaces, made me realize how much I miss spending time there. As soon as I walk through the door, I feel at home. Although modernity has created new spaces within – work areas with computers, shelved audio books and DVDs – some things remain the same as they were in my childhood; the hushed atmosphere, the smell of inked paper, the rustle of pages, and the narrow stacks with their tightly packed shelves of books to explore.
I have been successful in persuading several libraries to purchase my book. And when I think of a book I have written sitting on their shelves, waiting for someone to pull it out; I am joyful. Because what I have worked so hard for is not a dollar in my hand, but my book in the hand of a reader.