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Now and then, in an effort to retain the title "author," I participate in an event where I sell and sign books. Sometimes I am the only author present. However, I much prefer those that include an eclectic group of fellow writers.

Hubby accompanied me to one such group event last weekend. Our boys all strategically had other plans, but Hubby tagged along, for the very first time, to a local author expo. I was worried that he might be bored, but Hubby doesn't get bored easily when the occasion includes free food.

Food seemed to be the pivotal theme for the day. That morning, thinking that the event included a brunch for authors prior its start, we skipped breakfast. We grabbed some coffee on the way out, but left our nearly full mugs in the car when we realized we could not take them into the book-signing area.

The brunch was actually set up as a midevent break for participants. Hubby and I had to wait until at least 11 a.m. before curbing the hunger monsters that plagued our morning. This explains why Hubby kept pilfering from my display.

I take great pride in my table display at signing events. I fan out my books just so. One book is displayed on a wrought iron easel meticulously placed on a lace doily. A matching lace doily is placed on the opposite end of the table under a piece of local pottery containing chocolate intended entice visitors.

And the chocolate is what Hubby pilfered hoping to make it through to brunch. He also snacked on a few for dessert and as an afternoon snack.

I tried to discourage Hubby from eating the chocolate, but he noticed that I brought plenty of chocolate for everyone in the room, the parking lot, and the nearby strip mall, if needed.

Food was also the main topic of conversation among the writers. During the slow parts of the day, you could find us grouped in clusters and chatting about this and that, how good the sandwiches and desserts in the break room tasted, what we might have for supper that evening or why chocolate wasn't working particularly well as a bribe for potential book-buyers.

Occasionally we talked about topics other than food. Those of us who write regular columns talked about deadlines and writer's block. Every 20 minutes or so, one of us declared the most overused phrase known to columnists, "Now that would make a good column."

Columnists, novelists, and nonfiction writers alike reminisced about past book-signing experiences. There was the time that a writer sat for hours with nary a nibble when all of a sudden a patron practically skipped toward him with all the enthusiasm of a 5-year-old at Christmas, only to blurt out, "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

Then there was the writer who sat next to a slightly more famous writer at a local event. Passersby took marketing materials from his display and handed them to the slightly more famous writer in hopes of attaining an autograph.

One writer actually told of a writer who was asked to sign a copy of a less expensive book, even though it was not that writer's work.

Five hours into the six-hour event, many writers decided to call it a day. But my prestigious colleague, satirical humor columnist Warren Dixon from Liberty, N.C., and I decided to stick it out. We committed to a six-hour gig. We were determined to be there for the procrastinators who forgot about the event until the very last minute. What if someone walked in five minutes before the end of the event? We refused to let our fans down.

Hubby was fine with staying until the very end. It gave him more time to snack on chocolate.

When the end of the day finally arrived, at one point I was sure all the clocks had stopped, and I reviewed the fruits of my efforts, I was pleased.

I had the opportunity to meet and network with other area authors. I talked with several aspiring writers who inquired about local writing groups. Several of my business cards, with my relatively new Web site information, found their way into the hands of the public.

I only sold half as many books as Dixon, but then, I only have half as many titles. And the day ended on an extremely positive note. Hubby left me some chocolate.

Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com.