In the year 2000, back in my early bookstore management days, I read A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin and loved it. I didn't truly understand how masterful his writing was until I read the sequel, A Clash of Kings. When he came to our store to sign A Storm of Swords, I was thrilled. Author signings were rare on the Westside of Albuquerque, much less fantasy authors, much less bestselling fantasy authors. A dozen people had come to hear him speak, a large turnout back then. Little did we know that he and his work would become a global phenomenon eleven years later.
After he read an excerpt from the book, transporting us all to the brutal world of Westeros for a short time, I thanked him for coming "all this way" to do a signing. He looked at me, puzzled, and said, "All this way? I just live up the road in Santa Fe." When I told him that it didn't say so on the book jacket, he said, "Really?" and flipped to his headshot and author's note, nodded, and said, "We'll have to change that."
Since then, his book jackets state that he lives in Santa Fe. All because of me. True story.
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