Barnes & Noble book signing

Good things come to those who wait.

I’ve been at this writing thing for a while now, and one thing I always had as an aspiration was to have a book signing in a bookstore. I didn’t make it a priority, only a, “wouldn’t it be nice?” sort of thing.

But last month, on October 19th, I had a Barnes & Noble book signing in Knoxville, TN. And it exceeded my expectations in every way. What a blessing.

Here’s how it went down.

The lead up

I tried to organize a book signing for the release of my book, Grimbriar, back in 2023. I approached the Barnes & Noble store near me, among several others. They apparently were not doing events like that at the time, but they wrote down my name and said they’d get back to me when they did. None of the other possible locations I scouted panned out either, so I tabled the idea and went on with the release without holding the event.

I’d pretty much forgotten all about it by the time I got an email in September asking if I’d be interested in doing a group book signing. At first, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of partnering up with a bunch of unknown authors. But after giving it a day or so’s thought, I decided it world be worth it and told them to count me in.

Roll with it, baby

I rolled into the store a little before 1pm on the Saturday afternoon of the event with boxes of books and my 3D printed sword, ready to vanquish the book signing dragons. My lovely wife helped me carry in the books and prepared for her role as paparazzi for the event.

I quickly met the other three authors, Patricia Gilliam, Samantha Hicks, and Michaella Harris, sweet ladies all. My one regret was that I really didn’t have much time to get to chat with them more.

That’s because for almost the whole of the two hours, I was chatting, signing, and selling books. I honestly had not done a lot of promotion for the event, but it wasn’t far from where I live and many friends had gotten the word and made the trip.

The place to be

Here is one of the many photos from the day:

Side note: the sword I brought is actually the second version of the iconic weapon I created. My first attempt had some cracking issues resulting from me not knowing what I was doing so I had to remake it. In any case, the sword drew lots of interest from passersby, especially those on the younger side of the spectrum.

But it wasn’t just friends who showed up. I got to meet a few random customers and even someone who found out about the event through my newsletter.

Signing out

So, over the course of two hours, I sold and signed a few books. It seems like it should have been a fairly normal affair. Nothing all that much to write home about. In the overall scheme of things, it was just two hours, just a few sales. But for me, it was a breath of fresh air. I got to talk about the stories and characters I love and see my own interest and enthusiasm reflected on the faces of those I met. And that made it more than worth driving across town for a few hours on a Saturday. In fact, it reminded me of why I write in the first place.

My writing is an expression of hope, my way of fighting against the monsters and mayhem of a world that’s lost its way. When I write, it’s a way of digging down for that heroic side that glimmers in us all. Though often forgotten or derided, though often scoffed at and scorned, there is more truth to such invented tales than a thousand textbooks or a million news stories. Because, in the end, these stories are not about dragons and enchanted swords and spaceships, they’re about what matters most: who we are and why we’re here living this grand adventure called “life.”

To paraphrase Chesterton, we don’t write to convince people that dragons are real, but to convince people that they can be overcome. That courage is real and demands fortitude and commitment in the face of the day to day moral monsters threatening our souls.

That Saturday I caught a glimpse of it all again. All the wonder, all the dreams, all the impossibilities which simmer from the mind to the page through the conduit of a pen.

I wish you had been there. I wish you could have seen it.

Here’s to next time.