His name was Jim. “Is this seat taken?” he asked of me in the airport terminal waiting area.
“All yours.” I gestured for him to sit. “I love your tie.” It was a vibrant purple/green alternating diagonal stripe. It was excellent.
“Oh, this?” He seemed surprised, but pleasantly.
He settled in and seemed open to small talk. He didn’t pull out his phone, and mine was broken.
“Do you like fantasy adventure novels?” I showed him my last copy of Waterwight. I always travel with several copies to give away to people I think might enjoy them. I had already given away copies to 8, 10, and 13-year-old girls and one to a 60ish-year-old wheelchair bound man battling lung cancer.
“Not really.” He explained that he preferred novels with suspenseful political intrigue. “Why? Are you trying to get rid of that? Is it awful?”
Well, I was unprepared for that question, as if he should have known whom he was sitting next to.
“No! It’s really good! I wrote it!” There was no recrimination in my voice, and I laughed then at his flustered attempt at apology.
A young college-age girl sitting across from me caught my eye and seemed interested in the book, so I excused myself from Jim and plopped down next to the girl. She was delighted with her signed copy.
“See what you missed out on?” I teased purple/green tie guy, who seemed genuinely sorry he had said, “Not really.” So I gave him a bookmark and told him he might want to order one someday. He seemed impressed when I told him Kirkus had reviewed it favorably.
Perhaps he’ll even check out my blog. If you’re reading this now, Jim, let me know what you think of my novel! And watch what you say to strangers in airports . . .
