How not to invite a famous author to town

Abook club made up of retired women, read fiction, rotate meetings at the homes of club members and meet about eight times annually.

A glass of wine often kick- starts the meeting. The hostess who has chosen the book leads the discussion and prepares refreshments.

We once chose a book by author Louise Penny, unknown to most club members at the time. Although based on facts, The Nature of the Beast was a bit far-fetched and not to everybody’s taste. Motivation to read more of Penny by several members was sluggish.

After providing updates on Louise’s writing progress as she won awards and giving personal information of interest that I was privy to, the author became more interesting to the group. Louise Penny quickly became world-renowned and a household name among crime fiction readers.

Penny began publishing while I was writing for The Sherbrooke Record in Quebec’s Eastern Townships where she lived. I consider Knowlton to be my hometown and I arranged to be there for her book signings whenever possible.

In time the club members suggested we invite Louise to Penticton. An idea backed up by our local librarian.

I had submitted an article to The Record, mentioning our club, that our members read Penny’s books and that we were c onsidering inviting her to Penticton. After that article ran, Sharon, the publisher of The Record, encouraged me to go ahead and invite Louise; she was sure she would accept. She forwarded me her private email address. I explained to Louise in my invitation that we were a small club but that the local librarian would also like to do something for her. I thought since she would be coming from afar it didn’t seem friendly to set her up alone in a hotel room so I invited her to stay with me.

I didn’t have a guest room, but I had a large den with an en suite bathroom and a picture window overlooking a golf course. I mentioned she would be sleeping on a sofa bed. She replied within minutes, declining, saying she had been west recently and was concentrating on other areas. She thanked me for my kind offer and copied Lise, her assistant.

I know; I know. An offer to Louise Penny, a top crime fiction writer, to sleep on a pullout sofa bed. I knew she could afford a hotel room; I was attempting to be hospitable. I imagine she and Lise had a good laugh over that.

A week later, I saw a posed picture of Louise with Bill and Hillary who had invited her to New York for the weekend. I suspect she didn’t get to sleep on a sofa bed that weekend! Shortly afterwards I received a signed copy of Glass Houses, Penny’s latest book. When I get up the nerve she may hear from me again. This time I’ll mention the hotel around the door.

Joan Barnes was drawn to the Okanagan after retiring from careers in teaching and real estate. She has many interests including a shihtz dog named Sasha.