Rebel Heart Books and the Art of Connection — A Day in Jacksonville’s Literary Circle
The day opened like a quiet page—light slanting across the old bricks of the Jacksonville Library, the air soft with the scent of autumn leaves and ink. Rolling my books and supplies in my multipurpose sewing tote and noting I’d worn the wrong shoes, I made my way toward the meeting room where the fair was being held. Tables circled in rows of possibility, each one a little universe waiting to be explored.
It was, in truth, an amazing new reason to get me off our little farmstead—away from the rhythm of chores a break from Eldercare and the hum of solitude—into a gathering of words, laughter, and shared breath. Life’s gentle nudge saying, Go. You belong here, too.
By grace or synchronicity, I was placed beside celebrated Rogue Valley writer Diane Coogle—sharing a small table, our books and laughter blending easily. Diane, now my new hiking friend and companion for getting out into nature’s Zen, felt like an old soul I’d simply been circling toward. Her son Ela, a close friend of my sister Mary, had said, “I was wondering if You two will find each other.” And here we were—side by side, stories and laughter breathing between us.
I found myself needing more than a few moments of box breathing to calm my jubilant, racing mind and spiraling energy. it was fire. The joy of it all—the buzz of discovery, the warmth of kindred spirits, the hum of shared purpose—was almost too much beauty to contain.
Around us, fellow authors unfolded their worlds—memoirists, poets, wanderers, creators of wonder. Each book shimmered with its own heartbeat. I wanted to read them all, to sip the essence of their words like tea steeped in sunlight.
My heartfelt thank-you to Rebel Heart Books for the invitation to attend—that cozy, story-soaked gem in Jacksonville’s historic heart, where the scent of books mingles with old library wood and the gentle murmur of small-town Oregon life. It’s the kind of place where time slows down just enough for you to fall in love with reading again. Their support and presence at the fair reminded me how deeply rooted community and creativity truly are here.
As the afternoon deepened, conversations flowed like small rivers weaving through the room. The Jacksonville Library itself felt alive—its walls holding laughter, curiosity, and the quiet reverence of shared imagination. I looked up once, catching the smile of a passerby, and felt that familiar click of connection—the gentle reminder that none of us are here by accident.
Hmm……Stories meet before people do.
We just catch up to them later.