Celia Hayes – The Accidental Texan

We did have fun at the Patrick Heath Public Library in Boerne last Saturday – although, alas, I don’t think we sold many books, those of us who were in the community room. The new library building is altogether splendid, and with a lovely landscaped area in back and to one side, and with a large open space in front that may eventually become a sort of overflow adjuct to historic Town Square. If we had been in the old library building, which was in one of the old buildings edging Town Square, we might have had more foot-traffic from Boerne’s Market Days … but then there wasn’t room for anything like that in the old building, and as the saying goes, if my aunt had balls she’d be my uncle. But still – I was at a table across from Jeff Morgenthaler, who does local history non-fic, and whom I have known about for years: the owners at Berkman Books in Fredericksburg now and again ventured that they would love to host a joint event for the two of us, as he did in non-fic what I did as a ripping good yarn in the Adelsverein Trilogy. The book of his which I always recommend to readers is  The German Settlement of the Texas Hill Country, for a good and readable overview – of exactly what the title says – and an encyclopedic bibliography, for those who want more, more, more.

Next table to us was Jack Lyndon Thomas – a Vietnam veteran with several novels focusing on that war – among them one with the intriguing title The Monsoon Killed the Tiger. He hit it off with my daughter, both being veterans of wars four decades apart.  Really, though – I think the biggest hit of the whole book event was a kid’s book author, Tina Mollie Fisher – her book is called Pig’s Big Adventure … and she brought a tiny, very young piglet as part of her table … well, table and enclosure display. The piglet’s name was Princess, but I wouldn’t have been able to resist naming it Bacobit, or Wilburina.  I can see why people get them as pets, and then are totally appalled when they grow to three hundred pounds or so. And that was my Saturday ….

We will do it all again next year – it’s only about the second time for this book event, and sometimes these things take a while for word to get around. Even without a pig ….

The arrival of Santa, with a spare mount. It’s a long way from the North Pole, you see.

Another weekend, it must be another book event. And so it was last Saturday, so it will be this coming weekend. Last Saturday it was Christmas on the Square in Goliad, a place which I hold in affection – because it is a pleasant small town, full of nice people who all know each other and are connected by one to three degrees, has some claim to historicity, but is otherwise relatively unspoiled by excessive tourism and what my daughter calls the YA contingent. Which doesn’t stand for Young Adult, but ‘Yuppie *sshole’ – that variety of well-to-do and socially conscientious arriviste who roar into some unspoiled little country locale, en mass, and gentrify the heck out of it; the kind of people who love the country and farms and quaint friendliness, but who promptly turn it into upscale suburbia, can’t stand the smell of cows or the noise of agricultural pursuits at odd hours, and condescend to their neighbors as being hicks from the sticks. This also raises the prices of everything from property, rents, and everything else from a sandwich and cuppa coffee on up. Given the chance, I would take up a place in a nice little Texas country town like Goliad, renovate a little house and live there quite happily – but I would keep very, very quiet afterwards. I don’t think I am a snob or even a reverse-snob, particularly – but I always liked the remote little suburb that I grew up in precisely for the lack of pretense and the low-key, working-class friendliness.

The weather was wonderful on Saturday, there were enough vendors to make a double-line of booths along one side of the square, my daughter was persuaded not to bring home any of the cats on display from the local animal shelter, and gratifying number of shoppers and fans fell upon my books – especially Lone Star Sons – with cries of happy joy.

Anyway – what brought that these musings about class and neighborliness? Fondness for Goliad, the fact that they have laid out the streets in the old part of town to bypass certain huge old oak trees, some say they never lock their doors at night, and that semi-rural begins very close – within a block or so to the Courthouse square in some directions – and that the authors at the event fell into two distinct groups, and another author and me. As a repeat author to Miss Ruby’s Book Corral, I readily recognized them, although some were new to me. The first group were academics – they occupy a perch at the local branch of UT, or A & M, or one of the community colleges, and they all had books out which touched on local history in someway or another – at least two of which I was tempted to buy because … I need more microscopically local references because that’s where I get my best ideas! (Blondie talked me out of it … since … hey, I hardly have any more room on the bookshelves anyway.) One or two of them talked to me as we were setting up, or during the course of the day – but since I am cheerfully PhD-less (pronounced fid-less) and a dogged amateur historian, I barely count in the grand academic scheme of things. They clustered together, bought lunches and chattered amongst themselves: I’m not certain that they sold much, between them. This may have been more of a social occasion for them. The second group in the Author Corral were authors who were personalities in the local media – writers and columnists who already had a local following for their books. They were the ones that I mostly knew from other events; I know that they did a brisk business, especially the ladies with the cookbook, which seems to be enormously popular. The single other historical novelist and I shared a table, although my collection of nine separate books very much overwhelmed hers of two – and in hardback and paperback. I eventually sold her a copy of Lone Star Sons and The Quivera Trail purely because she was so intrigued overhearing me talk about them to people who came to my half of the table.

And that was that – for last week. This weekend, it’s Boerne, and on Saturday the market will continue until 7 PM. We have been told to bring a couple of strings of lights for the outside of the pavilion and some kind of spotlight for the inside. I think it will be actually rather lovely, at night – with the music and the lights and all. See you there, perhaps! We’re in the pink pavilion with the black-and-white-zebra-striped top.