Sold no books at the café.
The closest I came to a buyer was a husky security guard in a black watch cap and black windbreaker, who said he was getting back into reading, asked what my books were about, what they cost, and if I took anything but cash. When I said I didn’t, he took my card, said he would be back – and has not been heard from him since.
But I sold a half-dozen IWKYAs just the other day.
Some of you may know that I participate, through a nationwide organization, Mended Hearts, in a program where people who’ve had heart surgery visit those in hospitals who’ve just had an operation as someone who’s been through it in order to answer questions or discuss concerns they may have. The program director of the Oakland chapter asked me to speak at the monthly meeting about my surgeries, the impact they’d had on my life, and how they’d contributed to my success as a visitor.
About a dozen people, including spouses, attended; a couple more watched on zoom. (The event was recorded and will be available shortly on You Tube for those of you who aren’t bots.) I talked for 30 or 40 minutes; there was a lively Q & A; then Adele and I had some banana bread and signed books.
I had a terrific time.
In other news…
1.) Received an e-mail from a fellow in the Netherlands who is putting out a one-shot fanzine devoted to Vaughn Bode’s influence on graffiti art. In doing his research, he found my article from 2005 and asked for permission to draw upon it in his ‘zine, in return for which he would send me a copy upon its completion. A kick for me – and unnecessarily nice of him, since (a) I would be unlikely to run across his book and (2) even if my copyright was infringed would be unlikely to sue, given his place of residence
2.) Otherwise, it’s been all “Messiahs.” (Which, incidentally, the Bode leads off.)
Fantagraphic’s Summer and Winter 2025 catalogs came out and my book wasn’t listed in either. This was disconcerting until I learned that, since Fanta Underground (FU) books, like mine, are limited editions, they aren’t included in the catalog. In fact, they receive little promotion outside of an announcement at Amazon. That’s on the author. Which led me to get an established writer/critic, who’s said he likes my stuff, to take a look, and to line myself up as a guest on an UG-comix-friendly podcast. (Details once they become available.)
Then I learned that the printer which is in China had submitted my manuscript for review by the powers-that-be, and unless I made some changes, it could not proceed. Interestingly – and amusingly – the powers had no problem with the sexual perversities of several of the personalities I reported. It did not blink at the sadistic barbarisms depicted in comix which I portrayed. They did not mind the full-page illustration of Phoebe Zeit-geist, naked and bound, about to be ravaged by a Komodo dragon or the (full-color) amputated arm still clutching a subway car strap. No, the forbidden was, like, mention of Tibet, Hong King, and Mao’s little red book.
Which is instructive, if you think about it, as to the ridiculousness of censorship. What’s sauce for many geese may be traif for a couple billion ganders.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.