Hawking Books Wherever the Wind (and Car) Take Me: Everyday Magic, Day 919

Ding Dong, luna moth at your door.

I’ve learned over the years that it’s never a mistake to drive around with a bookstore in a rolling suitcase just in case, and that’s especially true when there’s a new book in the house (and car). Everyday Magic, landing under the UPS tree in a big pile as if dropped by a passing spaceship, is stepping out and waving its friendly arms at people. In the last few days, I’ve hauled over two dozen books (and they’re big and heavy, over 400 pages each) to the post office to mail, and I found myself selling individual copies betwixt and between, such as to someone in my weight-lifting class between bench press and RDLs (Romanian Dead Lifts…..seriously!).

I find that whatever my books are about is reflected in the process of writing and sharing them, a phenomenon I share with students about the focus of their thesis projects. Write about chaos theory, and guess what? The same seems true for writing about everyday magic, which made for a far easier and lovelier time hauling books than if said book concerned the end of civilization as we know it. What’s more, this is a book based on my blog — this blog — of the same title, and here I am writing a blog post on a book based on the blog, so talking about this is a bit like mirrors reflecting other mirrors.

When I arrived at the post office, I stepped into a mythical stretch of time between my normal experience of carrying piles of books to wait in long lines. I was the only one there except for people who suddenly appeared to hold open doors and steer me in the right direction (given that I could barely glimpse the path over the pile of books). I went to one of the postal worker to start having each book weighed for media shipping when another one said, “why don’t you bring me half the pile, and I’ll do those so you can get out of here faster?” I did, and although it took about 10 minutes, by the time I was done, I found a line of a dozen people had formed, probably all wondering why the woman with the big pile of books gets two people to wait on her at once.

When I went to the Merc to see if the store wanted to carry the book, I met some friends who said, “Oh, is that the book?” and within a few minutes, I had money to go out for dinner in my pocket. When I dropped into Signs of Life and the Raven, two wonderful bookstores in town, they were happy to immediately take some books to sell. All the way around, the book was stepping out jauntily to show its stuff but without pressure, like a book equivalent to Casper the Friendly Ghost but with many more pages.

Now the pile left at home holds different cats at different times, playing Cat Jenga with the books, daring us to remove any without the fur flying. But that’s also part of what makes everyday magic: what life piles up, and how we find some joy and spark in unpiling it.

If you’re interested in a book or two of your own, please drop me a line at carynmirriamgoldberg@gmail.com, drop by the stores mentioned in this post, or please visit my wonderful publisher, Meadowlark Press. You can also pull up alongside me on any street in town, signal for me to lower my window, and toss you a copy. Just remember to duck because while my aim is true, it isn’t always good.

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