When Hit by a Farm came out, the whole fiber world wasn’t even on my radar. Well, it was, but in a “those-people-are-sure-weird” sort of way.
That was then, this is now. Yesterday I was part of Lila and Claudine’s Yarn Shop booth at an annual knitting event in the Twin Cities called Yarnover (The yarnover is a knitting stitch, one I actually know how to do.) I had a little table with copies of Sheepish and Hit by a Farm, a few postcards, flyers with an excerpt from Sheepish, and a pen for signing books. I was surrounded by yarn.
When an author does a booksigning at a bookstore, unless she’s J.K. Rowling or Stephanie Meyer, she may sell 5-10 books. At a library event, same thing. So when I packed 50 books for this Yarnover thing, I felt stupid. “Who are you kidding, insane woman?”
Ahh, but this was a fiber event. Fiber means yarn, which means wool, which means sheep, which means “we love this!” My buttons that said “get sheepish” were gone in just a few hours. The “get sheepish” bookmarks disappeared soon after that.
By 1 pm I was out of books. Totally. Wow.
Out of books, and out of energy. Partly from talking to people, partly from staring at everyone’s knit shawls, sweaters, etc. and wondering if I could ever do that.
Still, it was a fine day.
Maybe these fiber people aren’t so weird after all.