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There was a young man sitting at a table at the entrance of a book store in the mall today. And, usually when I'm in a mall it is for a specific purpose, and I tend to have blinders on; only searching for that thing that I went for, and nothing else. So, the first time I walked past, I just knew that I wasn't in the market for books right now, at least not any that doesn't pertain to one of my classes, and so I didn't pay much attention to him. But, once I'd passed the store, I realized that he had books on the table, and I thought.."he must be doing a book signing".

So, leaving Sears (after having purchased a couple of articles for in-laws in Trinidad), I decided to stop by the table afterall. The young man lit up, "Well, I see you decided to come back." He sounded enthusiastic, and right away I was beginning to feel a little bad. You see, right away I noticed the brightly colored cover of his books, with big, silver bold letters, and I just knew it wasn't something I'd be interested in reading. "What type of writing do you do?" The answer I already knew, "Urban fiction."

To make a long story just a little shorter, he was self published, no use for agents or publishers..."get yourself a distributor" and do-it-yourself. Inside, I cringed. I thought, see Persistence, your turning into one of those literary snobs that Marlon James and Matt Johnson talked about.