The Objective
Celebrate my first novel published (Promotion alert: Dog Daze, first book in the four-book series The S.A.V.E Squad.) by hosting an open house to say thanks to all who have supported Adventure Guy and I in this looooong adventure to publication.
The Guest List
Requirements
The invite to Adventure Guy and my Open House had three requirements.
Only one of the three had to be met to attend:
- Have ever prayed that I would become a published novelist.
- Have ever been or was a student of mine.
- Loved us.
Near and far, I invited. If they were too far, I wanted them to know I would want them there if they weren’t far. Total: about 200+ people with many far. I think I read somewhere that if 200 hundred are invited, 30 will come. Maybe.
Lives are busy. People have kids. People are kids. I would be happy with whoever showed up. No pressure.
What really happened
As best I can gather, from people telling me with big eyes, was that it turned into an Event. One big, juicy love event gushing all over me.
Fellow author and friend Heather Horrocks reported at one time counting 60 people in my house, and “a bunch had just left and there’s more coming down the sidewalk to come in.” My house is not a large house.
Adventure Guy later reported he had some concerns about the floors holding up. He thought people would come, say hi, give us a hug, and leave. Instead, they stayed. They talked. They ate.
They waited.
Waited? To buy a book and get it signed.
At one point kids established a base camp in the hallway. I wish I had pictures.
The Food
- Alan of the beloved Louise & Alan offered to make his signature crepes with topping choices.
- Grapes and strawberries and Udi muffins for the gluten-free students in my life.
- Pastries, cheese Danish.
- A dish of chocolate Kisses in a new dog dish.
- A honking big urn of coffee (thanks to Marilyn for having one)
- A cake with the cover of Dog Daze on it. (Gush alert #1 – it was gorgeous, thanks to Shawnie at Smith’s grocery store whose employee Jose also made awesome donuts.)
What really happened
Alan & Louise brought boxes of baskets. And trays. And cute little matching glass dishes and tiny spoons. Because they knew I would do something like put the cupcakes in crumpled aluminum foil as a tray. Or put the spiral sliced ham in a leftover container. Use a plastic yellow tablecloth instead of a real one. Which I had. Which were quickly replaced and the set up became Attractive.
The Plan
- Provide food and drink
- For an hour and a half, sit around and talk with the people who would wander in, munch, mingle, and wander out.
- Sign a few books people already had.
- Have a small pile of books in case someone wanted one.
- Tell them how much we appreciated their support over the years when my publishing wasn’t a twinkle in any publisher’s eye.
What Really Happened
“You have a line,” I heard a voice say while I was hugging and smiling big and taking money people were handing me to buy books.
Lots of books. As in opening another carton of books and having Gary & Nancy in my office figuring out my mac to print more “signed by the author” stickers.
Me smiling still big and writing notes and signing my name like I practiced in Prof. Evans editing class back at St. Bonaventure University (to stay awake because I didn’t want to do that embarrassing neck snap thing that he would notice.)
A line?
I peered around the five or six people crowded around me: former students, their parents
(I put these two groups separately because my former students now drive, get married, have sex, have babies and jobs, and do all sorts of grown-up things)
…current students and parents, coworkers I had worked with over 20 years ago.
Good gravy. It was a line.
It snaked through the house. What I thought were people hanging out and eating and mingling was people hanging out and eating and mingling and standing in line to buy a book and have me write my name and a note in it.
Gush Alert
I lived a giant hug for over four hours.
People with tears in their eyes saying how proud they were of me, how excited they were, how they had wanted and waited and prayed for this day.
People saying that seeing me where I was meant it could happen for them.
People marveling that they were standing in a line to get a book signed by me. Me the teacher they loved for helping their kids be more than they knew they could be. (Sniff.)
Me the coworker who had talked about “someday” getting a book published and they figured of course it would happen because it was me. (Yes, I know. People have no logic sometimes.)
A lot about me—and the whole shindig was supposed to be about them!
Gush alert #2
They handed me money to buy books, many more than one.
I signed books to children:
- who were not yet born,
- children who were still in diapers and were the children of children I taught.
I signed for:
birthdays
and grand-nieces and
grandchildren and
grown children and
kids who loved to write.
And neighbor kids.
The Plan (Again)
It was supposed to be about them. About thanking them.
What really happened
They brought me:
- cards
- flowers
- plants
- a #1 acrylic sculpture
- a clay model of Wink from the book, complete with squinty eye (Thanks, 10-year-old Annie.)
Gush, gush, gush. I can’t stop.
I better stop. If I didn’t stop, I would tell you two entire families came together and a dad said my name was a household word, “Mrs. Wright says.” If I wasn’t stopping I would say that the first sale and sign was to a little girl whose mother I first met when she was five years old.
But I’m stopping.
Really I am.
Startled. Gushing. Thanking God.






















