It’s the smaller moments, I’m finding.

As a first-time novelist, one, I should not hesitate to add, who has published a first book a few decades later than I had originally thought I might, I am finding it is the smaller moments  that are the most heart-warming.

Part of my activity since Like a Child to Home arrived in the mail two weeks ago has been to promote it here and there, hither and yon, pretty much everywhere I can, without going to far. Living on a small Island and mostly content to stay here, much of my promotional action has been in the cyber world. Even then, I am slow to use a number of the e-tools which are available, yet somewhat remote to me. Still, I have made contact with many old friends and acquaintances and spreading the news of the novel.

Today, two pleasant things happened. A cousin e-mailed me and said of my novel, “ It held my interest and I was keen each time to get back to it. I had to keep telling myself that this is not Bill but the voice sounded like yours.”

That she could read my novel and clearly know that my voice and the main character were meant to be one, that I had honestly tried to do that, was rewarding.

The other pleasant thing to happen was to wander into our General Store and to be asked to autograph a copy of my book, bought as a gift to be given to a loved one. It was a delightful moment for me. It was also evident that I needed to improve my approach to book signing. I am much too casual and careless.