I always dreamed of having a book signing at the bookstore where I had purchased books for my students. I would walk in the door and see all the books being featured. Browse the new fiction table. Glance at the best seller shelf. Could one of those be mine?

I had put a slip of paper in my wallet: book signing at Vroman's. A goal so far from reality, the writing of it seemed delusional. It was about as far-fetched as getting to play baseball for the Yankees that I had fantasized as a LIttle Leaguer.

On a Sunday recently, it happened. Enough of my friends and colleagues and former students showed up that we had a standing room only crowd. I read from my novel, Bougainvillea Blues, just like I used to from from Oliver Twist or Grapes of Wrath or The Awakening in class. Friends listened to my book the way students listened to those classics, laughing in the right places and quiet at the poignant spots.

Of course, what I didn't realize during all those shopping trips to Vroman's was that all I had to do was pay money to get a signing. That seemed to take some of the specialness from my earlier vision: publisher promoting book and arranging for a stop at Vroman's on my national promotional tour.

Then a few friends pointed out that though I self-published and didn't have a major publishing house pushing my book, I had to have a book, even to have a paid-for event. That is, I had to put in the years of work to finish writing a book. Which I did.

Since setting up the signing at Vroman's, one of the few thriving independent bookstores in the LA area, I am now scheduled for others: at Flintridge Books in La Canada, at Grassroots in Reno, and at Unicorn in Ramona. All set up by me. No PR machine behind me.

Vroman's was my second signing. The first coming at a restaurant Fiore Market Cafe, owned by a good friend. But Vroman's was the special one and while the sales were pretty good, what pleased me most was people listening to the conversations and adventures of characters I HAD CREATED.