Last week I donated my hardcover copy of Sexton to the library in the small town in which I love to live. I autographed it, wrote where to find the rest of the series, and carried it across the street to the library. It was accepted, quietly, by the guy behind the counter.
A little while ago I walked across the street to see if it was on the shelf yet. I walked proudly to the fantasy section and perused the titles there. My book was nowhere to be found. Not all libraries accept self-published books, even by local authors. The one I worked in as a teenager won't accept my books because they're self-published. (See if they'll get a donation from me. They can hold their collective breath for quite a while before that'll happen.).
The library in this town accepts self-published books and takes pride in local accomplishments. It's one of the many reasons I love this town.
I walked up to the fantasy section and looked at the books, hoping to see mine nestled in among the greats, the not-so-greats, and the rest.
My book wasn't on the shelf. I wondered if it was sitting in a forgotten corner in the back room.
Out of curiosity and feeling a little peeved, I went to the computer that serves as the card catalog of the modern era and searched my own name.
Guess what I found! My book has been "CHECKED OUT". I was thrilled!
Grinning and half skipping, I made it halfway home...and realized I wasn't going to make a penny from that book. I laughed and winced at the same time. You know... It's good to be read, and I'm going to guess that whoever is reading, and I'm sure, enjoying that book probably wouldn't have bought a copy anyway.
Besides, maybe this time the library will buy the other books in the series...then I will have sold at least one copy.