Here's Bao, minding our stall at the First Annual Sedona Book Festival.
It was wonderful. It was fantastic. It was absolutely incredible. We sold 30 copies of Sea Changes -- and chatted with people and had a glorious (if somewhat exhausting) day.
This is the first Book Festival we've done, although we're doing another one in Scottsdale, just before Thanksgiving.
I have to say, Book Festivals are much more fun than Trade Shows, probably because the people who come to Book Festivals actually read books and like talking to authors. One thing that's surprised me is that many booksellers don't like authors very much. This is especially true of independent booksellers. I find this counter intuitive, because you'd think independent booksellers in particular would be delighted to have an author come and spend a few hours in their store drumming up business. Instead, they act as if they're doing you a favor. Which I suppose they are. But you're doing them a favor, too.
The big chains are different. Borders and Barnes & Noble are both more approachable, and friendler than many of the independents I've approached -- which of course is the opposite of what I expected.
Anyhow, we had a great day. It's not so much about selling books as it's about having fun. And we certainly had fun.

Funny story.
As you know, Bao's constipation has been an issue. (I almost cancelled the whole Denver thing) Happily, our veternarian solved the problem. The prescription was a tablespoonful of pureed pumpkin every day. Of course, getting Bao to accept the pumpkin was something of a challenge. I ended up buying packets of thin-shaved turkey slices, and wrapping the pumpkin in them. Little packets of yummy. Don't laugh. It works.
But I've certainly been paying attention to what does -- or doesn't -- come out. And on our last day in Denver, when nothing came out, I was concerned. What should I do? Metamucil? Milk of Magnesia?
However, the next morning at our Durango motel, all systems turned out to be go, and I was happy, and relieved.
"Good boy!" I said, as if he'd just laid golden eggs. "What a good boy! Oh! and here's another little poo! What a nice little poo! Bao is such a good boy!"
It was at this point that I realized half a dozen people were standing there staring bemusedly at us. Staring at me, actually. I almost started to explain about the constipation, but then I thought, I'm just not going there.
So I smiled, and scooped the poop, and kept walking.