Yesterday, my phone's calendar popped up a reminder: Author Visit, Tomorrow. Racking my brain, I struggle to remember what author. Where? Ahh, yes, now I remember. That knitting lady.
A few months back, my mother sent me a rogue e-mail. "Stephanie Pear-MacPhee is going to be at YOUR bookstore!!!! It could be my CHRISTMAS gift! You could get the book and get it signed FOR ME!"
This sounded important. Stephanie Pearl-MacPhee must be a helluva good author to get my mom so excited that she'd ask me to drive across town and secure her autograph. Mom (unlike me) isn't much into the celebrity sightings and autographs. When I ran into the band Barenaked Ladies at a music store in high school and reported back how excited I was to have held the door open for Ed Roberts (!!!!!) I was met with a, "oh that's nice dear." My Dave Coulier sighting and meeting Kevin Smith in person was way misunderstood. So why didn't I remember who this person was, this author, who was so important to my mother?
Mom refreshed my memory "She's the KNITTER! The blogger lady I like so much. You know, the Yarn Harlot."
Ahh, yes. The one blog (aside from mine, of course) that mom is addicted to, I was well aware of. She'd been reading Stephanie's blog for as long as...well....mom's known about blogs. Mom really enjoys reading the Yarn Harlot and because it's hard to say no to your mommy, I committed to going to the book store, buying her book, and getting the autograph. It would make a lovely Christmas gift.
The uber knitter and her granddaughter. Baby made by ME, Sweater and booties by the Grandma.
The bookstore was only a 15 minute drive from my house. Scheduled to begin at 7 p.m., I figured leaving by 6:30 would get me there in plenty of time. I could relax for a few moments, put my feet up, perhaps read a magazine. I mean, how many people would be there, anyway? There's not that many knitters, right?
This is the part where you insert chuckles, ghasps, and laughter.
The place was packed. I looked into the audience, not a chair left, and discovered people, or all shapes, sizes, and ages, knitting away. It was like I walked into my mom's living room, the amount of yarn I saw. Learning that I was without a seat, I decided to ask the bookstore employee, "What's this whole thing like...what's the plan?" AKA, how much time would this take. When I learned that Stephanie would talk for an hour, followed by a Q and A, and finally sign books, I considered heading to the bar for a drink. (Why do you think that's my favorite bookstore? There's a bar...IN IT). Instead, I grabbed a book I'd been wanting to read,waiting for this whole thing to begin. All I wanted was an autograph. So I leaned against the table, and began to read RUN.
Reading RUN didn't last long, because I was quickly laughing. Stephanie took stage and within 2 seconds had a microphone stuck in her hair. Immediately, I knew I'd like her. She was hysterical. She was down to Earth. She was familiar. I haven't laughed that hard and that often in a very long time. My heart was warmed when I heard her talk of knitting over her nursing babies heads for years. This caused me to learn more when I got home. A certified lactation consultant? A DOULA? She likes booze? This lady is my style (minus the knitting needles).
Never assume that you know everything about a situation or a person. Never judge a book by it's cover, because you just might really like the pages inside!