Nicholas Sparks

I had to go to Sam's Club Saturday and found the parking lot crowded and people flowing into the store. The reason? Nicholas Sparks was signing copies of his new book Dear John. There was a long line waiting for him to autograph their copies, many had arm fulls. If there hadn't been a line I might have been tempted to get an autographed copy since I like his writing (and he is a neighbor North Carolinian).

I spoke with a woman standing in the check out line. She was holding one of his books and I learned she had waited for an hour for his autograph (sorry Nick, too long for me, maybe I'll drop by your house). Another customer asked her the name of the book and the woman told her "Dear John by Nicholas Sparks, but I hear it isn't one of his best". I don't think the customer had ever heard of Nicholas Sparks. And gosh, an hour for less then best.

I was curious about what he looked like and followed the line around where I could view him getting writers cramp. He is a nice looking fellow, perhaps in mid-late thirties (he is actually 41). I felt a twinge of envy. Always thought being an famous author was a nice career. Good money, celebrity, and people buy you dinner. Maybe I can still write....

"It was a dank and stumpy night..."