Instead of a hot August night at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles, my husband Terry and best friend Glenn joined 7000 of our closest friends for another hot July concert at Wolf Trap. The venue is outdoors with a covered pavilion and lawn seating. The temp peaked at 96 with high humidity by 5:00. We’d arrived around 5:30 and with gates opening at 6:30, we had a long, standing wait to get in. We actually heard the sound check, although we couldn’t see the stage from the gate area.

Because we arrived early enough to be third in line at our gate, we were assured we’d have a good spot once the gates opened and the land rush began. We had a plan: Terry would immediately rent back rests, Glenn would dash downhill to stake out our homestead, and I’d follow more slowly with the blankets and food. Recently recovered from a broken wrist, I don’t “dash” anywhere. Glenn is a pro at this and had grabbed a great place only about fifteen feet up from the front of the lawn area.

We’d been following this band for years. I became a fan when its first album was released fifty years ago and never stopped buying every new release. In all formats except 8-track tape. Among the three of us, we knew the words to nearly all of the hits. Glenn had been following the reviews as the band worked its way across country. Not a single slightly sketchy review to be found. From 17,500 people at the Hollywood Bowl earlier in the summer to our paltry 7000 at Wolf Trap, the band sold out every venue for its fiftieth anniversary concert series.

The reason for the tour, beyond saying thank you to the fans, was to recognize the life-changing effect the first album had on the band and its fans. The concert was split into two halves: in the first set, the band played hits from many of their albums and singles over the years; the second set was the entire inaugural album from first note to last. The fans came to adore their favorite singers; the singers came to be adored.

Just before the encore, Justin Hayward, the lead singer, thanked the fans for joining them on their life’s journey. The sheer fact that we were there to celebrate was testament to the effect the songs from that first album had on so many of us.

We writers can take a lesson from The Moody Blues. We can thank our fans, our readers, for joining us on our writing journey. It takes so little, but Justin’s recognition of what we’d done over the years, loving the band, made all the difference. The fans were speechless before erupting in a standing ovation that lasted many minutes.

Writers don’t get standing ovations, but we do get to meet fans who buy our books. May we never forget to say “thank you” when we hand back a signed book.

To those readers who continue to enjoy my scribbles, thank you. I hope I’ve entertained, and I hope to continue entertaining for many books to come.