Little Things Mean A Lot

I grew up in Bisbee, Arizona, in the fifties, a time when the only books on sale in town were the paperbacks on the spinning rack located at the front end of the Warren Drug Company,  But even there and then, books with covers emblazoned with the words “NYTimes Bestseller” were the ones that caught the eye.  That’s still true today—making the list counts.

This week the numbers are in for Field of Bones, and they’re pretty terrific!

NYTimes Bestsellers—#15 hardback fiction and #7 combined print/e-book

WSJ—#10 hardback fiction and #5 e-book

USA Today—#10 all formats.

Whew!  Seems like a home run to me, and I’m here to thank all of my loyal readers who made that possible.  Thank you!!!  And thank you, too, to the many readers who have sent me notes saying that Field of Bones kept them up way past their usual bedtimes. That’s always fun to hear.

But in among all the Field of Bones correspondence was one with a subject line of: Walker Family.  Before I opened the e-mail, I could only read the subject line and the first few words of the message:  Thank you for saving my life.

That’s not the first time I’ve received a message like that.  On September 10, 2001, I was in Toronto, Canada, doing a book signing for Hudson News at a convention for Airport Managers from around the world.  At noon that day, I sat down and signed 400 books which were then handed out for free to conventioneers.  When the signing ended, I managed—just barely—to make the critical flight connections that had me at home in Seattle on 9-11.  I was home.  All those people in Toronto weren’t.  And one of them sent me an e-maill saying that having my book to read during that awful time “saved her life” because it took her away from the grim reality of what was showing on TV.

When I saw last week’s message from Heather Cameron in Harwinton, CT, I thought this was going to be something similar.  It wasn’t, and I’m reprinting it here:

Thank you for saving my life.  Today when I was having chest pains, thinking it was heart burn and my arm was throbbing and tingling, I remembered the Walker Family book where  Brandon had a heart attack.  Instead of ignoring my symptoms, I went to the hospital.  And yes, I was having a heart attack.  So thank you.  Your books do more than entertain.

Goosebumps anybody?  I had them again just now when I reread it!  I’m delighted to tell you that Heather is out of the hospital and recovering, partially due to the fact that she received treatment in such a timely manner!  In other words, people who may not have read the Walker books should probably take note of the words in Heather’s e-mail.  It might be life-saving information for one or two blog readers as well.

I write “genre fiction.”  I’ve often jokingly said that I write books with “no socially redeeming value whatsoever.”  I’ve also mentioned more than once that my books “can be found in better bus depots everywhere.”  I’m allowed to say that because I write to entertain.  I tell stories.

Nonetheless, occasionally people come up to me in public and sneeringly remark, “Oh, I don’t read murder mysteries.”  I get that.  They’re telling me that they are too important and that their time is too valuable to waste any of it on reading “genre fiction.”  They are certainly entitled to have that opinion although I think it’s rather rude of them to say that to me, especially at book signings!

Nonetheless, the next time it happens, I don’t think it’ll bother me nearly as much as it has in the past.  I’ll simply remind myself about Heather’s e-mail, smile at the literary snob in front of me, and tell him or her to,  “Have a nice day.”

Yes, making the lists is important, but Heather’s note was even more so.  Something I wrote made a difference in someone’s life, and little things like that mean a lot!

Thank you, Heather.

PS. Heather just sent me a note saying that Joanna and Field of Bones kept her company when she was in the hospital. Yes, that’s the ancient sacred charge of the storyteller—to beguile the time—and those days in the hospital made for time in need of beguiling.