God bless the writer who sells his own book.
Thursday was a hot and dusty day. I had given up hope of customers when in walk two men, one clean shaven and one with an abundant white beard. The one with the abundant white beard was Robert Michael Pyle. (The clean shaven one was his brother.) When I realized who I had in my shop, I blushed a little bit. (He was here to promote Sky Time in Gray's River. I knew he'd be reading at the Tattered Cover, and I had forgotten all about it.)
"Oh," I said. "I have a couple of your books."
I asked him to sign Where Bigfoot Walks. He told me that The Thunder Tree was out of print and a rare item indeed. We talked about the condoization of the world and about growing up in Denver. I mentioned that I was born in Walden, and he actually knew where that was. When he left, he said he was going to tell people I had a copy of The Thunder Tree. And he did. And yesterday one of those people he told came in and bought the book.
Thanks, Mr. Pyle. I'm a big fan.
If you'd like to buy a signed copy of Where Bigfoot Walks, we just listed it on biblio.com. We'd also love to meet you. Our door is open until 6 p.m. today.
Last night we had the opening for May Chou's Urbanscapes. I had made some attempt at advertising, but it was no match to May's own word of mouth. The place was packed. Even if you don't know her, you owe it to yourself to come in and check out her photographs. She has an excellent eye.