Today I signed books at the Layton Barnes and Noble in Layton, Utah. It’s always interesting to sign what some regard as an “anti” Mormon book in the middle of Mormon country, although Layton is pretty diverse, mostly because of Hill Air Force Base.

I thought it would be interesting to recount what the signing was like.

1. Signing starts, and they have ordered about 10 hardback books, as well as 30 paperbacks. Surprisingly, first three books I sell are hardbacks. I really didn’t think that with the paperback sitting there, people would shell out money for a hardback, but one was for a gift, one for a nice lady who collects signed books, and one for a collection of local authors at Weber State University. That nice man also bought a paperback copy for his wife.

2. Middle-aged slightly nerdy but nice man comes to table, leans down and whispers conspiratorially, “How do you like your publisher?” My publisher is great, I assure him. I have a great editor. Next twenty minutes pass by while he explains how he has written a science fiction book and everyone who reads it loves it and asks for more. He also asks many questions about publishing and getting published. He wants to know why he can’t self publish. He finally leaves WITHOUT buying book, and with letting me know he just doesn’t understand why that pesky switching tenses is so wrong. He just writes “what feels right.”

3. Candy I have set out to attract people to my table attracts very cute four-year-old boy. He spends about 10 minutes explaining why he needs three pieces, for him and his brother, because they always share, and will be splitting the third piece in half. He is so cute, I give him two more just because he amuses me.

4. Mentally handicapped boy spots candy and comes over, scooping up handful. Mother admonishes him to return it. I tell her he is welcome to take some candy. Big mistake. For next two hours, he wanders the store unsupervised and keeps coming over to scoop out big handfuls of candy. I try telling him that it will make him sick, but he is not listening. No idea where mother is. Finally, I resort to hiding basket every time he comes close. I have no problem sharing my candy, but I am afraid that he will get sick on chocolate and I will get sued or something.

5. Nice slightly gothic twenty-something girl comes up, asks about book, wonders if it will offend her Mormon mother (answer: possibly) and gets signed copy, then moves away.

6. Twenty minutes later, nice slightly gothic twenty-something girl stands at rack next to my signing table and talks loudly to her friend about her own writing, and how “Jane thinks it is awesome, and so-compelling,” and how she keeps having people tell her she should get it published. Apparently, however, Jane was drunk while she read it, so perhaps her opinion is not valid. Friend assures her Jane’s opinion is always valid, drunk or not.

7. Strange woman wearing headphones and carrying CD player comes in, picks up book, reads back summary, glares and me, slaps it back down on the table with a “hmmph” and walks away.

8. Friend Suzanne and husband Matt come in, and buy four copies, having me sign them for different friends and relatives. Suzanne then walks around store with copies face out, so people will see book and want their own copy. Good Suzanne.

9. Several other people buy signed books, offer congratulations, and leave quickly. Two more hardbacks are sold.

10. Nice former Mormon comes and introduces himself, and we have a nice chat. He buys a book, and promises to email his response to it.

11. Nice lady comes up and tells me she bought book in hardback last year, and applauds me for my courage.

12. In the aisle, next to the table where I am signing, is a Dan Brown table. A FREAKING table. For next three hours, I fight back compulsions to physically pounce on people perusing Brown books and drag them over to MY table (which will be dismantled shortly after I leave, as opposed to Brown’s ENTIRE FREAKING TABLE, which will not) and make them buy MY books.

13. Did I mention Dan Brown has an entire FREAKING table? Since no one is at my table, I wonder over there and bookseller starts talking to me. I mention I am not a real fan of Angels and Demons, and girl with man perusing DAN BROWN’S FREAKING table joins conversation. She soon comes over to check out my book, gets excited and buys copy. WOO HOO.

14. Twenty-something, slightly gothic girl returns to same spot, again talking loudly about her latest story, and how her boyfriend keeps telling her she is as good as any book in Barnes and Noble. Not exactly sure what girl wants me to do, aside from begging to read her work, I choose to smile nicely and sign books for about four more people, including very nice former Mormon couple.

15. Very, very strange girl comes up to table. Shows me some sort of book with just pictures (not sure what it was) and tells me she is not capable of reading words, only pictures. And she is good artist, too. Her mother tells her she should write, but no, she wants to draw pictures, like the ones in the book. Sorry she can’t buy my book because it has words, not pictures. She doesn’t much like words.

16. Nice man comes up and chats with me. Tells me he is California Mormon, not Utah Mormon, making sure I know the difference, and then tells me how men writers just GRAB ya, and women writers don’t. But maybe his wife would like my book. Turns out, after reading the description, she doesn’t want it either. She wants to read books about “happy Mormon families.” I am a washout there.

17. Things slow down, and I sign remaining books, and slap autographed copy stickers on them. Manager thanks me, and I leave him with some of my cards. All told, there are ten paperback copies left and only two hardback copies. Manager says they are going to set up display at information desk with remaining signed copies.

18. Friend Cindy comes in, with daughter, in between soccer game breaks. She buys four copies, and has me sign them. I love friends.

19. On way home, I stop at Albertson’s Grocery Store for toilet paper (oh the glamorous life) and spot my book there! I ask manager if I can sign it. He gives me strange look, and asks me how he is supposed to know it is really me. Hello? Are their hordes of people wandering into stores and signing books randomly? Is this is a real crime problem? I open up book and show him my pictures. “Yep, that’s you.” I sign books.

20. I can HARDLY wait for the next signing.

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