I took the first tentative steps into the traveling bookstore business. I have the van and the shelves, a garage full of inventory, a name and business cards. Even a Facebook page. I’ve become an expected feature at the weekly Eureka Farmers Market. I was an unusual attraction at a couple music festivals. I set up the bookstore up at a brew pub and a marina. A few people called me looking for books and I met them along the road to slide open the door to the bookstore. I got my first fan mail from a woman in Florida who was enchanted with the idea of a traveling bookstore and offered to mail me books. I have been invited to bring the bookstore to New York, Washington, Portland, North Carolina and Texas. And I have passed from the early glow of starting the business to a momentary hesitation. It reminds me of coming upon a river in the forest with a fallen log across it. You put a foot on the log to see if it’s stable and then start across the river focusing on your balance. But then at some point, maybe when you look down and see the water rushing below, there’s a hesitation. Is this safe? Is this really what I should be doing? But at that point it would be just as foolish to turn around to go back as it would to continue across. I am by no means half way into the traveling bookstore business. I am still a novice. Maybe this is the point where I am testing the log with my foot. Maybe this is the point where I actually start to cross the river.