I wander the internet, meeting a world of wannabe writers like me, and real writers, and really skilled wannabes, and maybes, and almosts, and ams. I pick up hints which I try to obey, and I work on remembering to say that "I write" when people ask "What do you do?" They usually walk off muddled and confused.
One thing I learned a long while back was that you're always meant to carry a stack of business cards. "You'd be amazed how many opportunities you get to give them away," or so they say. Though I haven't plucked up courage yet to offer cards to strangers, and I'm still unamazed.
I do carry them though, most of the time, but when I went to my son's graduation, I decided not to bother. It was his day, not mine. And for the first time ever, someone sitting next to me asked "What do you do?" was interested in my answer, and wanted to know how he could find my books.
John, if you're out there, you'd've made my day except for it's being my son's day. Instead you made my next day, month and year in memory. You wrote down my website and I thought how I wished I'd remembered to bring a card. And yesterday I found out I'd sold a book. I've no idea if it's you that bought it, but whoever it was, thank you so very much!!!
So now I'll go back to carrying my business cards around. Maybe there's hope for me yet.