Quiet Happiness

Today I went over to the local big bookstore, in search of Orhan Pamuk's "Istanbul", but instead I found myself with his novel "Snow" - which I've also wanted to read - in my hand. I was ready to leave, and then I turned back to the in-store computer which had helped me locate "Istanbul" (shelved in the Middle East History section.)

"Maybe I'll just look my book up and see if by any chance it's come in," I thought to myself. I typed and clicked, and to my surprise, it said, "In store. Church History and Theology." Somewhat mechanically, I followed the aisles down to the religion section, and started scanning for Church History. There was the section, yes, alphabetical by author, OK, up on the wall to the left, there are the "A's" -- and there it was. My heart did a little flip, and then I stood there and stared, very quietly, without moving.

It was a happy moment when my publisher handed me the first copy of my book, in Columbus, Ohio, this spring at General Convention. But it wasn't the thrilled-to-the tips of-my-toes sort of feeling I've heard other authors talk about, nor did I expect it to be. J. and I had designed the cover, and I had already looked at a lot of page proofs, so the visual appearance was no surprise - plus, I've spent my professional life designing things for print, and holding the final copies isn't a new experience for me - in fact it's often accompanied by a huge sigh of relief that the whole production process is finally sucessfully over. I was also in the throes of recent grief. When the box of books arrived on my doorstep a few weeks ago, that was a little anticlimatic, because I had already seen them in Columbus and then again in Montreal. I didn't really have any feeling of unfulfilled anticipation and excitement today...but I guess I was meant to feel something extra-special sometime, and this was when it happened.

Maybe it was because I was all alone, browsing in a bookstore - that most ordinary and familiar place, but one that still retains a kind of magic for me. There is always some sense of quest, or of finding something I don't expect at all; of appreciation for the works on the shelves; and of being in a place where, from a young age, I've always cherished a small hope of finding a work of my own on the shelf too. There, today, it was.

I stood, and looked, and thought. And then I reached up and took the book - one of two copies - off the shelf, and placed it facing out. I stepped back, and looked for the first time at the other books keeping it company, to the right. Only two other authors in all the rest of that short shelf: St. Thomas Aquinas, and St. Augustine. I had to smile at that. Then I just looked a little bit longer, wrapping up the memory of something that has never happened before in my life, and will never happen to me in the same way again. And then I walked up to the counter and paid for "Snow."

Comments

[zhoen]

(o)

[Lorianne]

How serendipitous...I just blogged about seeing *Going to Heaven* on the "New & Noteworthy* shelf of a local independent bookseller, the same shop that stocked Ivy's chapbook when she was in residence at the MacDowell Colony:

http://www.hoardedordinaries.com/archives/000896.html

Someone else had arranged the shelf so *Heaven* was peeking out. It was such a pleasant surprise to see it looking at me after having found my Amazon-ordered copy in the big bin of mail awaiting me when I got home from Ireland this week.

My friend Pavel's new book was also in that big bin of mail, so between your book, his book, and Fred First's book earlier this year, I'm getting used to the thrill of seeing friend's writing in print. I don't think the sensation will ever grow old, though: like the arrival of a child, the appearance of a new book feels like a new promise, a bit of good news in a weary time.

Congratulations, and hurray. I can't wait until my back-to-school schedule settles so I can tackle my to-read pile.

[Teju]

Oh.

Wonderful.

(If that ever happened to me, I'd be thrilled to bits too). You've earned the moment Beth.

And let us know how "Snow" is.

[Beth]

Zhoen, Lorianne, and Teju - you are all people for whom I fully expect this experience to happen! Thank you for being there to share it with me.

I think "Snow" will be very good, and I decided to read it before "Istanbul," which also looks excellent - anyway, will report!

[marja-leena]

Oh, what a beautiful feeling! I'm glad you finally had that experience and could hold it in your memory! You really deserved it. (I'm waiting for my copy to arrive any day!)

[language hat]

Wonderful! (And I too am looking forward to reading the Pamuk books.)

[Anna]

Beth:
So well done! Why don't you buy it and sign a copy to yourself?

I'd be knocked out just to hold my completed PhD in my hand - I'll let you know how I feel if I haven't passed out with relief and joy :-)

[dale]

:-)

[jeremy andrews]

Wow, Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine, you are in great company. Both of these men has some serious issues with church and spiritual experience. I am hoping to see my own first work hit the shelves this Fall. I held my book in bound form for the first time a couple weeks ago then handed it to my editor!

What a rush.

Cheers
Jeremy

[Beth]

Congratulations to you too, Jeremy! I look forward to reading your book when it comes out!

[udge]

Congratulations and well done! I'll look for a copy when I'm in Toronto next month.

[Natalie]

Beth, how beautifully you describe that magic moment. You've now joined the secret society of authors who quietly enter bookstores and surreptitiously turn their new-born babies covers to face the world more boldly. It's a wondrously mischievous feeling. I've gone so far as to move a book of mine from a shelf to a table or to shift it to another section altogether because it had been classified under the wrong heading. Well, who's going to do it if we don't? I'm very glad your publisher is getting the book out and about efficiently and doing all the right things. The best of blessings for it.

[Dave]

Sounds like a good feeling, one that I can understand entirely.

Quite a different feeling -- so i understand from my mother -- is finding a copy of your book in the *used* bookstore! Especially if it's inscribed -- then you know it wasn't just a review copy. I hope you don't run into that for years to come.

[Beth]

Oh, but I'm sure I will, on Amazon if not face-to-face. And I'm sure there will be unflattering reviews, too. I've tried to prepare myself for whatever happens, but I'm sure the bad stuff will hurt and the good stuff will continue to feel good. The main thing I keep telling myself is that I did my best, and that's all anyone could ask.

[qB]

Sweet Beth. What a wonderful moment. So full of electricity and quiet joy. If such a conjunction is possible. Which I think you have just proved is.

[andru]

What a lovely description of a wonderful feeling! Congratulations from me as well.

[anasalwa]

Beth,
This is a little late, but congratulations on your book. I'll definite get one soon.

[Rachel]

This makes me smile.

[MB]

Congratulations, Beth.

[Loretta]

Congratulations! You have realized a wonderful accomplishment and I am thrilled for you. I hope to see my own there one day, and I'm looking forward to the same moment of discovery.