During the last week of July, there is an outdoor marketplace in Kennebunk called the Annual Blueberry and Craft Fair. I attended this year for the first time as a “vendor” and spent a sunny Saturday on the tree-shaded lawn of the First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church, the event sponsor. I arrived early to arrange my fold-out card table with an assortment of my watercolor paintings and copies of my new book, Fishing the Morning. I had my kids and Patti with me, and Brooke and Billy helped set up the table display very professionally ala Peter Marino (where Brooke works as an interior decorator). I brought my newspaper and a book in case it was slow, but the crowd grew quickly. I had an ideal location, adjacent to the local library which was holding their annual book fair at the same time. The shoppers coming from the library had to pass me before making their way to the tables and tented booths at the craft fair. There was an interesting assortment of browsers: young, old, retirees, college students, children, visiting family and friends and of course all the regulars who attend year after year. My first buyers were two youngsters who were drawn to the title of my book and immediately charged into questioning me for the best fishing locations in Kennebunk. Well, I had to be on my toes for these kids. They wanted to know the where, the when and the how about fishing the morning in Kennebunk – a place I have never fished. Well I took the boys aside and suggested a couple of places that I had scouted to sketch some of my paintings—an area at the entrance to the Kennebunk River with the tide coming in. I seemed to have satisfied them such that they asked their mom to buy my book. I explained to her that the book was a compilation of columns about a lot of things not only fishing. The boys didn’t care—they were already scanning my fishing paintings and questioning me about each of them as to the type of fish and where I caught them. The boys were sold and their mom had no choice but to buy my book. I threw in a painting of a trout as a bonus. Next were some women visiting from western New York. One picked up my book and saw that I was from Rochester. That was enough for them. A book sale and a Maine painting of Cape Porpoise. The fact that I was both the author and painter required for each sale a personal handwritten note and signature on the item sold. Later, a youngster standing back from the numerous browsers finally asked if I had anything for $5.00. I had been selling everything for $20.00 but said “Of course!” It was the end of the day, and I was ready to fold up my operation. I offered her any painting left. She carefully looked through my entire inventory—I sold more than I ever expected so there was not much left—but she found a touching piece I had painted from the deck of our house in Kennebunk of sailboats swaying in a gentle breeze at high tide. Just as we were closing the deal, her mother and aunt came over to round the youngster up to go home. Hearing about our transaction, the mom bought my book and the aunt a painting. It was a trifecta of sales. I never finished my newspaper and the book I brought never made it out of my tote. We toasted the day by sharing a basket of organic blueberries, purchased from one of the other sellers. Thanks to Tom Veronisi from the church for running a terrific fair.
