Book Sales but No Baby
I sold a book yesterday to the receptionist at my doctor’s office. Whenever I have any kind of appointment—hair cut, doctor—I take a couple books to pass out to other waiting folks or the receptionists. About 50% of the time I do this, I sell a book.
Last week after I spoke at the National Honor Society induction ceremony at my former high school, a couple whose daughter was just inducted told me they appreciated the message of my speech, namely that the students should be proud of themselves and know that this honor was not “given” to them, that they earned it through their scholarship, leadership, service, and character. The woman said she would get my book. I told her I had some with me that I sell for $15, and it was like I’d caught her in my headlights. She stammered and looked to her husband for rescue and came up with “Well, we don’t have the money right now, but it is at local stores, right?” I don’t like to put people on the spot like that, but I have nearly 400 books at home I need to sell.
Last Saturday my Uncle Joe called my mom. I’m sure they hadn’t spoken since the time of my accident in 1983. You see, Joe is the husband of one of my dad’s sisters. Anyway, Joe told Mom that his brother read my book, bought for him by a friend, and loved it, called Joe and told him it was a great book, however, wouldn’t part with his. My articles in the newspaper end with my byline saying my books are available at Lake’s Jewelers on Main Street in Franklin. In fact, that’s where Joe’s brother’s friend bought the one for him.
So Uncle Joe goes to Lake’s, but they’re sold out, so Joe called Mom.
Long story short, Mom and I drove over Sunday and dropped off five copies. One for Joe and my aunt and one for each of their four children, my cousins.
That’s six copies gone this week. Selling books always cheers me. I need cheering as this morning my temperature dropped, which means I’m not pregnant. I get depressed each month when I realize I’m not pregnant, and I almost cried this morning, and I’m about to cry right now, but I try to concentrate on the fact that I’ve sold six books this week. We have four more months of taking chlomid to try to get pregnant. Surely it will happen in that time.
Last week after I spoke at the National Honor Society induction ceremony at my former high school, a couple whose daughter was just inducted told me they appreciated the message of my speech, namely that the students should be proud of themselves and know that this honor was not “given” to them, that they earned it through their scholarship, leadership, service, and character. The woman said she would get my book. I told her I had some with me that I sell for $15, and it was like I’d caught her in my headlights. She stammered and looked to her husband for rescue and came up with “Well, we don’t have the money right now, but it is at local stores, right?” I don’t like to put people on the spot like that, but I have nearly 400 books at home I need to sell.
Last Saturday my Uncle Joe called my mom. I’m sure they hadn’t spoken since the time of my accident in 1983. You see, Joe is the husband of one of my dad’s sisters. Anyway, Joe told Mom that his brother read my book, bought for him by a friend, and loved it, called Joe and told him it was a great book, however, wouldn’t part with his. My articles in the newspaper end with my byline saying my books are available at Lake’s Jewelers on Main Street in Franklin. In fact, that’s where Joe’s brother’s friend bought the one for him.
So Uncle Joe goes to Lake’s, but they’re sold out, so Joe called Mom.
Long story short, Mom and I drove over Sunday and dropped off five copies. One for Joe and my aunt and one for each of their four children, my cousins.
That’s six copies gone this week. Selling books always cheers me. I need cheering as this morning my temperature dropped, which means I’m not pregnant. I get depressed each month when I realize I’m not pregnant, and I almost cried this morning, and I’m about to cry right now, but I try to concentrate on the fact that I’ve sold six books this week. We have four more months of taking chlomid to try to get pregnant. Surely it will happen in that time.
posted by Elizabeth Evans Fryer at 4:39 AM
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