The lights are chandeliers, hung fashionably low but not so low as to distract from the sense of family friendly fun bouncing from wall to wall. She’s a Southern bestseller who’s written novels for all ages, including the one I’d read the night before, “This Savage Song.” I’d made my way into Little Shop of Stories, a brightly colored book store filled with yellows, light blues and oranges. I was there to conduct an interview with a pretty famous author. There were also many other authors I didn’t know who were promoting their own work. There were so many different things! Books on different religions, Native American studies, and a writer’s association devoted to collecting and celebrating the works of famous authors. My mouth watered in hunger, but I was broke, and that food, while great-looking, was expensive. They had such a variety of foods, from Louisiana cuisine to authentic Chinese cooking to even homemade beer, they were all fascinating little blocks of history and culture delivered through food. Food trucks were parked in between the strips of green that served as family parks and the trendy, uptown shops. Each had representatives present as civilians chatted on the sidewalks. I’d seen the AJC, Georgia State and Emory University tents. Many different organizations were in attendance. The sun’s rays stretched into Georgia soil, warming it and my skin so comfortingly. Not exactly adrenaline, this feeling, but something much lighter, something celebratory. I’d stepped out of the train station with a deep, anticipatory feeling racing in my veins.
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