Today I was on the phone, which is rare. Except for talking to Russ, I don't particularly like phones. However, someone had asked for a job reference and these people don't seem to like to do those via email. (grin)
We went through everything. Then the woman asked if she could ask me about something completely different. Sure.
Her niece has been reading my books (which she thought were in print, not ebook) and loved the Silky novels. She was curious about signed copies.
There was a moment when my brain did a 'she must be talking about Holly Lisle's books' and then I realized she said Silky. My novels. A stranger is talking about my novels to me.
Now, I know there are strangers reading my books. Sometimes I hear from them, but never in a case like this where the conversation was about something totally unrelated.
Yes, I'm still quite happy, hours later and even after a rash of house cleaning.
Sometimes it's just the little things that make life good for a writer.