I love to meet my readers face-to-face, and I try to give them a little bit of me in return for all the time they've spent reading my books. In their kindness, some of them try to give me a little bit of them. A tangible bit. This is both charming and alarming.
For those of you who've packed for touring before, you know how valuable every square inch of suitcase is. You know how heavy that suitcase can be when you have to swing it up on a luggage rack or pull it off the conveyer belt at the baggage pickup. Some readers let their generosity sweep away the practical aspects of a woman living out of a suitcase.
Sure, I love food that is a specialty of the region where I'm signing. But blueberry jelly in a glass jar is really not something I can take with me when I've got five more cities to go. Coffee-table-size books, no matter how much I might want to look at them, are also (here's a favorite word) contraindicated. Like any sane woman, I love chocolate. But it melts when you have to pack it, especially in the late spring and summer.
A gift that almost made me gush was a handmade bookmark. And the first thought that crossed my mind? How grateful I was that it would be easy to pack, and I would get to enjoy it and use it.
Have any of you gotten strange or unusable gifts? How did you handle it?
Well, that dashes my gift idea I had for Ms. Harris! I found a huge potato that looks just like a vampire head. I guess I will have to eat Mr Compton for dinner tonight. ;-)
Posted by: readsallnight | September 03, 2009 at 07:27 AM
It was in my capacity as repOrter, not author..but I opened a package the other day to find a cellophane envelope with a cute label and high-class packaging and a nice news release: and it was
CHOCOLATE COVERED GRASSHOPPERS.
Dead bugs. With chocolate on them.
That you're supposed to EAT.
Not. A. Chance.
Dear PR guy: Thanks for thinking of me, but not in a billion years.
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | September 04, 2009 at 12:06 PM
There have been times when I've thought Bill deserved such a fate. :) Butter him up real good. No ketchup.
Posted by: Mary | September 04, 2009 at 12:07 PM
Poor Bill. I'm feeling the hate.
Posted by: Charlaine Harris | September 04, 2009 at 02:57 PM
Okay, it wasn't a fan, but I'll never forget the gift a friend of mine gave me as a going away gift the night before I moved from North Carolina to Massachusetts. It was a hand-blown glass griffin that he himself had made for me. It was lovely, and thoughtful, and the most fragile thing I have ever owned in my life. Not only did it not make it to Massachusetts, it didn't even survive the drive back to my house that night intact.
Posted by: Toni LP Kelner | September 11, 2009 at 08:54 PM
I feel it for bill. Just as well its fiction
Posted by: TKuk | March 17, 2010 at 05:37 PM