I don’t usually ask for names, figuring if a person wants me know their name, they’ll mention it. Maybe if it looks like we’re going to be trapped together in a broken elevator for the next six hours, a name might make the wait more comfortable. Kids in a sandbox? Sure.
Kid One, looking at Kid Two: Hey! Wanna play trucks? I’m Poindexter! What’s your name?
Kid Two: Gibby. I hate playing trucks.
Kid One: Okay. Then you can keep on eating the sand. I’ll build my roads over in the corner there.
Kid Two: Mmmmgllblg.
Honestly – as adults – you just never know for certain what it’s about when someone asks your name. Once I answered the What’s-your-name-Question and was promptly handed a legal summons. Not a big deal, as it turned out. But if I’d just kept my mouth shut, maybe I would not have had to waste the time. I figure if someone wants you to know their name, they’ll introduce themselves and mention it.
So – I didn’t ask the lady her name. Now you know why, partly. She and her nice friend were having lunch at the shop today. I could tell by their accents that they were not from the Sooner State. One of the ladies made mention of the sandwich bread. She liked it a lot, and decided it was much different that the bread in Australia. “We’re from Australia,” she said.
So I learned that much without having to ask.
At the checkout counter I figured since they had mentioned their country of origin that the fact was fair game for conversation. I asked how two Australians wound up in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, for lunch.
Books.
That was appropriate, I thought. Turns out, the taller of the two ladies is an Australian novelist who specializes in historical fiction. All of her works have been set in her native country. She figures that to sell books in the US, the plots will have to have American settings. I figure she is probably correct.
Which brings us to Broken Arrow, the setting of her next work of fiction. I suppose it doesn’t get any more American-sounding than Broken Arrow, especially if any stereotype of the Wild West remains. (Some of you might suggest Broken Bow, Oklahoma, as just as American-sounding, but then – that town could be named for gift-wrap, a violin bow, or a necktie…) If my Australian guest is planning on writing American historical fiction, the American West has played host to some great stories, and why not have them in a town with a real-West-sounding name like Broken Arrow?
I suggested to her that one of her characters might visit a bookstore. (Wink, wink: nudge, nudge.) She didn’t actually roll her eyes at the idea, but I could tell that her inner eye was rolling at the speed of light. I gave her a business card anyway and offered to answer any questions that might come up later about the area. Email and all that. G’day mate.
That, of course, will be the only way that I would ever find out if the book ever gets written, published, and distributed.
Since I didn’t ask her name.
It is true that most authors like the idea of having their book in a bookstore. Perhaps, at some point in the future, she (or her publisher) will make contact about a book with Broken Arrow, Oklahoma as its setting, and make it available for purchase in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma! I’m anxious to know if the hero of the story will be a sharpshooting, jingle-jangle spur-wearing cowboy riding high in the saddle on an Appaloosa kangaroo.
Every book sold today gets a free raincoat (some call them plastic bags), so come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow, OK
