I went to a Farmer’s Market yesterday to sell books. Odd place it seems to sell books, but it was Author’s Day at the Market.
The market has been going on for years and some time ago they began to invite local artists and craftspeople of all kinds. They consider writers as being in that group. So, there were around ten writers selling their wares. They ranged from cook books to westerns, and romance to true stories.
I did sell a few books, but perhaps more importantly, I met some fellow writers and exchanged notes about things in general. Some of us have tried traditional publishing with little success. As one experienced writer puts it, “I was writing the books and they were making the profits.”
I picked up a few of their books and read a few pages. The work was consistently good, but not something I would write. Each one was in a genre that’s alien to me. (Pun intended as my choice of genre is science fiction and fantasy.)
Everyone was interested in the local writer’s group. I was the one, it seemed that had the phone numbers and emails of the contacts. So, everyone who wanted those came to me.
Last April, our local writer’s group had 4 people attend. Earlier this month about thirteen attended. I am guessing that the next meeting will have around twenty people.
Long live the Farmer’s Market.