It went well, I thought. First, we had a surprising (to me) number of people show up for an event on 10:30 on a Saturday; I don’t mind telling you I was skeptical that anyone would show up at that hour. So to everyone who did: You’re awesome, and thank you.
In addition to my usual schtick of a reading and a Q&A, the library did a very nice thing and presented me with a plaque thanking me for the donations that were made through my Redshirts auction, and also dedicated a corner of the library to me — naturally, the corner where they keep all the science fiction works. I am of course genuinely touched by that, and told the folks there that what this means is that from now I can no longer get in any sort of trouble, because if they do, they might take the plaque down. And, you know. That would be bad.
I read from Redshirts and from The Shadow War of the Night Dragons, but I also read this piece from my Thanksgiving Advent calendar, in which I discussed why I was thankful I lived in Bradford. As I was reading it I was very surprised to find myself choking up; reading it in front of a hometown audience got to me, and I’m an easy crier in any event. Fortunately no one seemed to mind.
It’s a little nervewracking to do a public event in your hometown; if you flub it up, everyone will see you in the IGA later, and that’s not good. So I’m glad everyone seemed happy with the event.
And now I need a nap. Catch you all a bit later.