When we’re together, my BFF Pat and I love to visit flea markets and seldom leave one empty-handed. On each of these visits, in a semi-joking manner, we peruse the book shelves to see if either of us has a title there. Could one of our inspired, gripping, nurtured, tweaked-to-death labors of love possibly end up in a used book sale?
I didn’t know what I would do if I ever found a book of mine. I knew it would be a new step in my writing career — whether up or down, I wasn’t sure.
Should I be downcast that someone was so over my book they included it in their castaways? Or should I be glad that, rather than molding in a box in an attic, my writing would now have a chance to find a new audience?
Last Saturday, it happened. The United Methodist Women of my home church, held their annual flea market/bake sale/soup luncheon/bazaar.
I was looking though the more than 50 books that were donated to the rummage sale (of course I was!).
And there it was. Every Day a New Day and other short stories by Dot Hatfield. A collection of award-winning submissions published in 2006.
I decided to feel good about it. It meant that new eyes would be reading these stories written 15-20 years ago. I’m satisfied with this new step in my writing career.
“I’d like to know that what I’ve done will last;
A child reads a book great-great-grandma wrote
And journals inspire stories yet untold.”
(from “79th Birthday”)