Unexpected Things You Remember People For - by SC Skillman

I was sitting in my local Costa the other day in the Royal Priors Retail Centre, Leamington Spa, and suddenly I had a flashback: a vision, if you like. About four years ago, in the very corner of that same café at which I now gazed, I had displayed my books upon the table. I had reserved the space for a book-signing, as I do occasionally at craft fairs.

An attractive display of books, promotional fliers and cards, reviews and price stickers awaited interested prospective readers along with a dish of free chocolates. As I sat there, hoping to attract the attention of those who passed by, I realised something about cafes. They are places people go to for the following purposes: to relax with a nice cup of coffee, snack or meal; to take a break from shopping; to meet up with their friends for a chat. Essentially, they go into such places to spend time apart, to rest, to gain some space in their day. The clientele drifted past me, eyes searching for the table they were going to occupy, ignoring me completely. My books met with no interest whatsoever.

I know I'm not alone in this experience. Recently a fascinating thread on Twitter attracted several famous authors sharing their experiences of book-signings where nobody or only one person turned up.

As I sat there, though, I felt mortified. To be quite honest, sometimes I think being an author trying to interest people in your books at a fair on similar situation can make you feel as if you're a homeless person sitting on the street: or at least, it can help you start to understand just what it probably feels like to be right in the middle of a place with lots of footfall, trying to attract people's eyes, and feeling invisible. This is why I now make a point of smiling at homeless people on the street and saying hello to them, even if I have no other help to offer.

At that point, someone came up to me and it was a friend whom I shall call Lucy. She had dropped into the café without any knowledge of my being there. She came and chatted to me and commiserated; then announced that she would be my sales agent and would attract people's attention: and she did just that, being a much more upfront person than I am.  The feeling of relief and consolation that I had from Lucy's presence there, giving me moral support, was immense, regardless of whether or not I eventually sold any books. For various reasons Lucy and I are not regularly in touch any more, but when I think of her, as I did in Costa the other day, I shall probably always remember that moment, and exactly how I felt when she appeared and totally changed my emotional situation. She herself probably has no idea of how she made me feel. Time goes on, and life takes us apart, but one precious moment can define a person in our minds and hearts.

Also very recently, at a funeral at church, I met a lady who had formerly been a regular attender at our church. She had since moved away with her family to another area, and had now returned as a visitor to attend the funeral. As I chatted to her I was reminded of her husband, whom I shall call Tony.  Tony probably has a different theological approach to me and sundry other aspects of his character and interests that we don't share in common. Yet when I remembered him, I immediately recalled exactly how I felt when he walked into a Pathfinders group I was leading, several years ago. It was the first time I'd done it, I'd been dropped in unexpectedly, I had no adult support, and several of the young people were in a sullen, uncooperative mood.

I felt totally out of my depth and quite sure they thought my words were utterly unconvincing and irrelevant to them. Once again, I felt mortified and exposed. Then Tony walked in unexpectedly, listened for a short while, picked up on my words and reiterated the point I was making from his own experience, giving it much more conviction, and above all, validating it. I didn't feel he had muscled in and taken over; instead I felt acknowledged, supported and valued.  Again, he was a much more forthright character than I am. When I think of him, I remember how I felt in that moment, and how he saved me. As in my Costa experience with Lucy, it totally transformed my emotional state at the time.

I could give other examples, and I'm sure you can too. I am reminded of the book The Five People You Meet in Heaven, and also the film It's a Wonderful Life. None of us will ever know what a profound impact we may have on other people's lives. Those individuals may never tell us how we made them feel. And yet, when they think of us, they may remember that moment. It may have had profound significance for them. It probably transformed their emotional state.

Richard Gere, from his Buddhist perspective, once made this point:

All that matters is the compassionate moment.

I think those who follow the Christian faith would say exactly the same. 

He was speaking of the ethics of giving money and handouts to homeless people, when we may be perpetuating their situation, without addressing the root causes.

But his words about "the compassionate moment" came back to me today. And I knew just what he meant.

Sheila writes under the pen-name SC Skillman. She lives in Warwickshire, and writes psychological, paranormal and mystery fiction and non-fiction. She is a member of the Society of Authors and the Association of Christian Writers.

Her non-fiction books on local history are published by Amberley and include Paranormal Warwickshire and Illustrated Tales of Warwickshire; her next book, A-Z of Warwick, will be released later this year (2023). She is now researching a fourth history book and ready to submit her latest novel to publishers and agents.

SC Skillman was born and brought up in Orpington, Kent, and has loved writing most of her life. She studied English Literature at Lancaster University, and her first permanent job was as a production secretary with the BBC. Later she lived for nearly five years in Australia before returning to the UK. She has now settled in Warwick with her husband and son, and her daughter currently lives and works in Australia.