Guest blogger- Delores Beggs

Making New Friends

by Delores Goodrick Beggs

A lot of promoting a new book can be personal appearances, and for  someone like me who has never been outstanding on the social scene, it can be hard on the nerves to start up a conversation with strangers.

When promoting my book, one word answers and a mere thank-you simply won't suffice. I want to make new friends, build up a nice rapport to ensure readers I meet will want to purchase my book, in my case my debut historical western romance novel, Breaking Point.

I have used two key ways of establishing a connection with strangers at events.
Both work well for me and can be used by anyone when making new friends.

1. I give myself a Question-Maker. A Question-Maker is something

different about me - weird, wild, and/or wonderful - that I wear or carry to encourage
persons meeting me to feel moved to comment on. This may be my collection of silver and
turquoise Indian-made jewelry I purchased at a reservation store in New Mexico, which
state is the setting of my From the Heart western series of books, or it may be
my dress or my cowboy boots, or even a bowl of chocolate candy.
2. The first way leads into this second one. I don't give one-word answersto comments. A one-word answer doesn't provide the other person something to respond to. Instead, I prepare for my personal appearance with a sentence or few about my home state
or town, my occupation, my dress, my boots, my Question-Maker. Folks are attending
the event for the purpose of learning more about me, the author, and a one-word
"Thanks" to their greeting cuts them off, rather than sparking further friendly
conversation exchanges.
When I get a real friendly exchange going at a conference, library authors day, and so forth, then I dig into the currently fascinating subject of e-books and e-readers, explaining how easy they are to use, the print size can be enlarged, and how you can store many reads on one, without compiling many dusty shelves of books to find room for.
Friendly conversation is remembered much longer than a one word reply, and
may result in a sale. I work to build up my friends rather than copying Mauranie
in my new western historical novel Breaking Point when she tries to direct new
acquaintance Stemson Arroyo Smith away from her to her sister:


Excerpt:

"The house is over there." She nodded in Tennyson’s direction, drinking in the wonderful experience of not having to tilt her head in order to hear him.

Stemson made no move to leave.
Mauranie ground her teeth and clenched her fists, staring at him. She glanced past him to where Tennyson stood pressed against the veranda rail, her body rigid again, a grimace on her face.
"My sister sometimes keeps her suitors cooling their heels. I warn you, yours will be a long wait if you remain here. Tennyson’s hand-made boots have never seen the inside of a corral." Mauranie turned her back to Stemson and clicked the colt into motion.
"My business is with Mauranie Wells." His deep voice caused her to pause and turn back to better catch his words. "I daresay it’s you? Scott Ringer at the feed store in Mescal Flats told me your sister is a blonde. So you see, I am, after all, where I should be."
Warmth started in the core of her being and spread to engulf her. At the same time, uncertainty struck her. Had she heard him right? This nice man had come to see her?

Breaking Point, by Delores Goodrick Beggs, is available May 11, 2012 from Desert Breeze Publishing at http://www.desertbreezepublishing.com　

Breaking Point Excerpt:

"Good colt. I'm Stemson Arroyo Smith, by the way."

Each crisp word shot a thrill of pleasure through her. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. He didn't drawl the way Tennyson's cowboy friends did. Cultured, she thought, and with a deep voice she could hear well.

"He needs work, a lot of work."

"A little at a time will do it. He's young yet."

"The house is over there." She nodded in Tennyson’s direction, drinking in the wonderful experience of not having to tilt her head in order to hear him.

Stemson made no move to leave.

Mauranie ground her teeth and clenched her fists, staring at him. She glanced past him to where Tennyson stood pressed against the veranda rail, her body rigid again, a grimace on her face.

"My sister sometimes keeps her suitors cooling their heels. I warn you, yours will be a long wait if you remain here. Tennyson’s hand-made boots have never seen the inside of a corral." Mauranie turned her back to Stemson and clicked the colt into motion.

"My business is with Mauranie Wells." His deep voice caused her to pause and turn back to better catch his words. "I daresay it’s you? Scott Ringer at the feed store in Mescal Flats told me your sister is a blonde. So you see, I am, after all, where I should be."

Warmth started in the core of her being and spread to engulf her. At the same time, uncertainty struck her. Had she heard him right? This nice man had come to see her? She well knew how her poor hearing sometimes tripped her up. She tensed. She had to check if she'd heard him right. She drew Showman to a stop and led him to the pole fence where the stranger stood.

"Me? What can I do to help you?" She scanned the crinkled corners of his silvered eyes, letting her gaze drop down smooth cheeks darkening with new afternoon shadow. Her tight muscles relaxed. She lifted her gaze and stared into the smile of those silvery-blue eyes.