I'm so pleased that the group booksigning at Seven Sounds Brewing Company in Elizabeth City, NC, which I've been hollering about for quite a while, far exceeded my expectations. I sold quite a few books, as did friends David Niall Wilson and Patricia Lee Macomber (a.k.a. Trish). For me, some of these "non-traditional" book venues have really paid off.
Friday, September 6: Brugger and I hit the road early, drove most of the day, stopping only for lunch and a handful of geocaches. We arrived in Elizabeth City a tad early for setting up at Seven Sounds Brewing Company, so Ms. B. and I went walking and snagged the five stages of a very nice Adventure Lab Cache along the downtown waterfront. Once we completed that, we made our way back to the brewery, set up the book table, sank some pints (well, I did; Ms. B. opted for vino), and spewed all kinds of gross welcoming remarks to Dave and Trish when they arrived a short time later.
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Trish Wilson (Patricia Lee Macomber) plotting devious demises for unsuspecting victims |
Author Elizabeth Broadbent had intended to participate in the event, but circumstances apparently conspired against her. Alas!
Come dinnertime, we picked up burgers from the Shipwrecked food truck, which was on hand for the event. I must tell you, their Hickory Gouda burger is an exquisite thing, and it was apparently their most popular of the evening. One of the owners told Brugger that it could been their only offering on the menu and still made a killing.
Near the end of the evening, friends Mike & Bridgette Brenmark, whom I'd met in person for the first time last month at NecronomiCon–Providence, came by, since they live in reasonable proximity. We shared a couple of drinks, and then Brugger and I headed over to Stately Wilson Manner just a few miles down the road. Spent a couple of joyous hours hooting, hollering, and drinking some of Dave's outstanding bourbon.
I've no idea what time it was, but at some point, we went to bed.
Saturday, September 7:
We hung about for most of the morning, socializing with several of the 13
household house cats and drinking vats of coffee. Eventually, we headed out
for brunch at nearby IHOP, which wasn't bad, although the service was
painfully slow — apparently, not for the folks around us, but I wonder if our
server recognized Dave; if so, I understand everything. We had talked about
having Thai food for dinner, so I decided to offer my services and make Thai
basil chicken, which is one of my staples. Brugger and I went shopping, picked
up the goods, and I fixed the dinner. It were good.
Afterward, we watched Longlegs, which I found wonderfully weird, atmospheric as hell, and ultimately unsettling. It's one of Nicholas Cage's most intense, memorable performances ever.
Again, the evening ran pretty late. I zonked out for a bit on the couch, a condition that Dave termed "Markolepsy." I'll go with it.
Afterward, we watched Longlegs, which I found wonderfully weird, atmospheric as hell, and ultimately unsettling. It's one of Nicholas Cage's most intense, memorable performances ever.
Again, the evening ran pretty late. I zonked out for a bit on the couch, a condition that Dave termed "Markolepsy." I'll go with it.
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Bridgette & Mike Brenmark with the scary folk |
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Brother Tomás |
Sunday, September 8:
Brugger and I didn't have a lot of time to hang around this morning, but Dave
and I did manage to hash out some ideas for several upcoming projects we hope
to pursue. No moss growing on old stones, and all that. Brugger and I hit the
road about 10:30 a.m., stopped outside of Elizabeth City for some nibbles and
coffee for breakfast, and then headed westward. A few geocaches, a so-so lunch
at Cracker Barrel, which was not our first choice, but it was open, and
we arrived home around 4:30 p.m. I'd missed out on my daily walk this morning,
so, before I could collapse in a weary heap, I walked a couple of miles around
nearby Lake Lanier.
Now I am ready to collapse in a weary heap. So, that's all for now, sayonara, and peace.
Now I am ready to collapse in a weary heap. So, that's all for now, sayonara, and peace.
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Ms. B. wrangling cats |
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Coupla scary old writers |
