Last night I was honored for my writing at a gala held by the Provincetown Arts Press. It was their annual fundraiser, and honors also went to painter Bob Henry, and two philanthropists, journalist EJ “Terry” Kahn and his wife, Founder of the New York Opera Society——-. It was held at the ProvincetownTown Hall, and several of my friends kindly came to support me. It was a big surprise to be chosen this year, as hardly anyone in my town knows I write. The local bookstore refuses to carry my books, citing they lack shelf storage for my three inches of paperbacks. When the owner told me that, after I introduced myself as a year-rounder, I left his store quietly, and silently cried all the way home. It was the first time a bookstore point blank refused to carry my work.

So for over ten years, when visiting friends ask where they can buy my books, I tell them they need to go two towns over to the Wellfleet Marketplace; or Brewster Bookstore, or Seahowl in Orleans. They can also find my books in Chatham, in Yarmouth, in Hyannis, and on Martha’s Vineyard. Only Tim’s Used Books stocks second hand copies of my work in Provincetown, filled to the rafters with wonderful books.

So imagine my joy when Provincetown Arts Magazine wanted to publish my work. They literally told me, “we have room for you.” That really is all a writer wants to hear—we have room for you.

Though I joke about that local bookstore rejecting me, I find I am still deeply hurt by the experience. Something bitter grows unwanted when I hear of other writers I know reading there. I don’t like the feeling, and the only way to excise it is to write another book.