At a recent trade show in Paris, Texas, I explained my love for words and discussed details about some of the 28 books I’ve written with a mother of two girls, who bought several copies. One of the girls, who must have been seven or thereabout, exclaimed, “You wrote all of these books?” Before I could answer, she shook her head and replied, “Doesn’t your head hurt?”

I laughed and said, “Not anymore; I’ve let a lot of words escape and now the several stories are trapped inside the pages of these books.”

Then, a young teen boy came by my book table, and I shared the journey of why I write mysteries and my love for solving a crime, all based on losing a dear friend to a serial killer and having the need to want the situation solved. He listened intently and said, “I will ask my parents if I can buy the series. I don’t have any money. I’d love to read all six of the “Annie Grace Kree Chronicles,” and off he went.

So another teen, a girl this time, showed up at my booth, and I went through the same spill—a hobo girl involved in the case of the Phantom Killer, from riding the rail to chasing Tin Can Mahlee to fighting off ghosts, some real and others not, to learn why her father kidnapped her in Memphis when she was five. This teen said, “I think my brother came by, and you talked to him about this series.”

I asked, “Was his name Nathan?” “Yes, that’s his name.”

“And what’s yours?” “Lilly. My brother and I both love to read.” Soon, Nathan and Lilly’s parents bought the six-book series for their two teenagers.

A 12-year-old girl who hovered nearby said, “I don’t even like to read, but your way of telling stories to everyone who stops at your booth makes me want to read.”

And yes, she ended up with a book from the Emma Hobbit: You Are Lost Series, book 1, The Mystery of Sneaky Pants, and has since texted me that she’s reading it. Two weeks later, she texted again: the book was so good.

Sometimes, attending a trade show can seem like a chore: packing the books into tubs, loading up my tables and stands, unloading, setting up, repacking, and taking back my items into the house when I get back home.

But then I’m reminded I would miss meeting some of the most glorious people.

For example, a small boy of around nine walked by my table, skidding to stop since he was nearly running, and he touched a young reader novel on the front of my display. “What’s this about?”

“Three best friends, Jack, an athlete, and Sebastian, who loves to read, along with Emma Hobbit, who doesn’t fit in and seems to rescue things and they join their youth group on a camping trip, but here’s the catch: they’re in the sixth grade. And it might be the last time sixth graders go camping with the teens. The raccoons invade their campsite, someone almost drowns but thankfully no one does, there’s an avalanche, a treasure hunt, and Emma tends not to follow the rules, which makes for the need for park rangers. But she means well.”

He sighed and went on, running down the lane between the booths. Later, he stopped by to touch the book again. “It’s not free, is it?”

“No, I’m sorry.” So, about three more times, he charged by, each time glancing at the book. Finally, I called to him. “Would you love to read this book?”

“Yes, but I don’t have any money.” “That’s fine. Go ask your parents if I can give you a book as a gift.”

Now he charged to where his parents sold their homemade cookies at their booth, and I noticed his dad digging for cash from his pocket.

So I hurried to take not only one but also the second book in the Emma Hobbit series, “The Mystery of Sneaky Paws” to the boy, ready to explain that I hadn’t asked for any money.

Well, here’s the good news: we had a great exchange. I received a bag of fresh, giant cookies, and the boy ended up with two books! I’d say that’s a pretty great deal.

So yes, the event offered memories to hold onto for months to come, and the day reminded me that some people love to read, just like me. Or sometimes, they don’t know they love to read until they overhear me telling a story.

And yes, I’m working on three new books as I write this column, just to keep my head from exploding!