Friday, November 04, 2005

Being recognized

Last week as I was on my way to Colorado to give some workshops (big fun!), I saw a group of teachers and school administrators in the airport, on their way to a conference. As we were chatting, I recognized one fellow in their group. In that same instant, he said, "Hey, you're the storyteller!"

In Colorado, one of the librarians in a workshop came up to talk to me--she'd been a librarian in Kansas years ago and had hired me to perform in her library. She'd even used something I'd taught her when she went to Colorado for her job interview.

I really like that kind of recognition. It usually happens with children. Today I was at the public library as a patron and noticed a couple of kids in sleepwear. Pajama day at school, I found out. One of the kids said, "We went trick-or-treating at your house!" I was pretty sure they hadn't, since I was home only a short time in between telling stories at Crafty and Co. and at an annual bonfire, so we discussed it a little more. I asked if she had perhaps heard me tell stories at the library. She wasn't sure until I mentioned a story I'd told. Yes! Her face lit up. Off she went with her mother to find my CDs in the children's department.

Once I was in a motel breakfast area in another town and had a mother recognize my voice. She and her son had heard me in their small town library a year or so earlier, and I think they bought one of my recordings.

It's a nice kind of fame to have. No paparazzi, just the occasional recognition that my stories or my puppets have connected with a listener.

3 comments:

Gwyn said...

Priscilla, Somehow I missed your blog before, but I won't now! I have had that recognition thing happen once, when checking out at the ShopKo store.
The clerk said, "I heard you tell at the Haunted Trail! It was the only good thing about that night."

Obviously, it was one of my gigs from hell!

PriscillaHowe said...

Gwyn,
Thanks for the comment. You reminded me of being recognized from a gig at which something embarrassing happened. I had been trying to ease a little guy gently off the edge of the stage and he fell. From his screams, you'd think I'd pushed him! He wasn't really hurt, just startled. Being recognized later from that gig brought that memory back sharply.

By the way, nice pictures from Jonesborough on your blog. Maybe next year I'll get back there.

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