It occurs to me that the Stone’s Trace Pioneer Festival starts a week from today, which means Emily and I have until next Saturday to find outfits that make us look more or less like pioneers. On a limited budget, just like the actual pioneers. We have it covered, as long as we don’t have to wear hats, and if people don’t look too closely at our footwear.
I think it’s neat, the way they go to such lengths to give people a taste of what things were like a century and a half ago. It can’t be perfect, of course, especially in our case. This is the first time Stone’s Trace has hosted a book signing, but I don’t think they’ll ask me to use a quill pen, or only sell leather-bound books. On the other hand, I’m almost positive they won’t let me bring a jug of corn liquor, so it’ll all even out.
Hm … what did Hoosier pioneers drink? Paging Google …
It seems locally distilled whiskey was popular. I don’t drink much: A jigger of that stuff, and I’ll be signing my name “Mfcks Hinknickle”.
It’ll all work out. And preparing takes my mind off something much scarier: three days earlier, on September 9th, I have to give a talk at the Kendallville Public Library. Well, I don’t have to, but if somebody asks me to talk about my writing, I’m going to do it.
What happens after that is what they get for asking.
Now that I think on it, do you suppose people will show up hoping to witness a train wreck? Well, that’s fine—maybe they’ll feel so bad for me they’ll buy a book. But I’m actually not terrible at public speaking, as long as I have something of a script to go by. I’m a writer—so I write what I’m going to say, and it should work out fine. Guess I should get started on that.We’ll be fine as long as I stay away from the moonshine.
|"Mfcks Hinknickle ... pass the jug."|