Sold four MESSIAHS. (And a second cousin reported at FB that she bought one.)
The first and second went to and electrical engineer from Eritrea, who had come to the US as a teenager. He bought one for himself and one as a gift for a relative. The third went to a former secretary of mine and the fourth to a retired social worker who wanted it for a friend in NYC, who had bought books of mine previously when visiting. (Everyone received a t-shirt.)
I also gave an IWKYA to a retired attorney in the DC area whom I know from an on-line discussion (mainly basketball and politics) group. He’d expressed interest in my health saga. It was a gift because I had previously signed it for an elementary school friend, currently living in Florida, who has memory problems and, for reasons known only to him, had decided I needed it back. “So it’s personally inscribed,” I told the fellow in D.C., “only not to you.”
Meanwhile, I have not heard from the reporter who’d expressed interest in writing about MESSIAHS for an on-line daily or from the woman who wanted to discuss my research technique. (This was the second time she has dropped this ball, so I am giving up on her.)
In other news…
The documentary about Dan O’Neill and the Air Pirates is moving along. The first meeting in 40 years between Dan and one member of the crew was filmed. (Another was ill and couldn’t make it and will have to be filmed separately.) The copyright expert the documentarian hoped to interview has health problems too. And so does he.
So there is this aspect of the project being a race against time.
blog
Last Ten Books Read: xxxii
In order of completion:
1. Alan Goldfein. “2035.” My friend Alan continues to be one of the most productive octogenarians around. This is his second novel to arrive at my table in the café in the last year. This is a dystopian view of a not too distant future. Alan has a lot on his mind.
2. Kit Robinson. “Tunes & Tens.” Another friend, Kit was once lumped in among the “language poets,” a term he dislikes. He is also a Latin jazz musician and his jazz-related poems, of which there are several in this collection, are, for me, the most accessible and, hence, admirable. Much of his others I can’t make sense of, but making sense may not matter to some readers, right?
3. Joan Didion. “Notes to John.” These are Didion’s recollections, visit by visit, of psychiatric sessions primarily addressing her relationship with her daughter Quintana. The ending is common knowledge. A terribly sad and painfully rendered business.
4. O. Schrauren. “Sunday.” Chris Ware’s NYRB review alerted me to this book. He also educated me in possibilities of the comic-art-form to which I’d been oblivious. The story is quirky. The art is sneaky. The effect is strong. An enthralling display of panel positioning and page composition, of character creation and experiments with time.
5. Peter Weiss. “The Aesthetics of Resistance,” vol. I. Highly touted by a semi-regular at the café. It is a first person narrative by an unnamed teenage Communist in 1930s Germany, which carries through the Spanish Civil War. Without chapters or dialogue, it was nearly unreadable until I found guidance in Wikipedia – and discovered a glossary at book’s end which explained who the characters were. The book’s thrust is the failure of Communists and Social Democrats to unite to effectively fight Fascism, intertwined with expositions on particular works of art.
6. Rick Atkinson. “Fate of the Day.” His second volume of the American Revolutionary War. I’ve previously stated what I like about Atkinson’s military histories, so I won’t repeat myself. Only one (not yet published) volume to go, but I think I’m in good shape for when the Ken Burns documentary series begins.
7. Peter Weiss. “The Aesthetics of Resistance,” vol. II. After the war’s end the narrator escapes to France and then to Sweden, an assumed identity. He continues his working for the Party while assisting the Soviets struggle against the Nazis. He becomes involved with Brecht, who is also an ex-pat there, and his theories on art. All heavy stuff. I was still managing only abut five pages a day but the going was easier.
8. R. Crumb. “Heroes of Blues, Jazz & Country.” This collects the trading cards Crumb did on these figures into one volume. A minimalist page of text is set beside Crumb’s portrait of each figure. (The texts on the country artists are the longest.) Each portrait, apparently based on a single photo of each individual, is raw and simple, yet Crumb captures an expression of individuality and character in them all.
9. Henrik Pontoppidan. “A Fortunate Man.” A friend recommended this. Pontoppidan, a Dane, won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1917. I did not care for it. I did not care for the protagonist and the pages reeked with anti-Semitism. Minor characters were well-crafted and the picture of the society was well done – but seemed ridiculous. Which is how, I expect – and hope – people 108 years from now will characterize ours.
10. Bruce Chrislip. “The Minicomix Revolution.” I learned a lot about a phenomenon and its practitioners I had barely considered. Significant thoughts about art arose. Take a sheet of paper; fold it in half, Fold it in half again, and you have a four-page comic. Swap them for other four-pagers or sell them for pennies or leave them on shelves or counters to be carried away. You are an artist. Wow!
1. Alan Goldfein. “2035.” My friend Alan continues to be one of the most productive octogenarians around. This is his second novel to arrive at my table in the café in the last year. This is a dystopian view of a not too distant future. Alan has a lot on his mind.
2. Kit Robinson. “Tunes & Tens.” Another friend, Kit was once lumped in among the “language poets,” a term he dislikes. He is also a Latin jazz musician and his jazz-related poems, of which there are several in this collection, are, for me, the most accessible and, hence, admirable. Much of his others I can’t make sense of, but making sense may not matter to some readers, right?
3. Joan Didion. “Notes to John.” These are Didion’s recollections, visit by visit, of psychiatric sessions primarily addressing her relationship with her daughter Quintana. The ending is common knowledge. A terribly sad and painfully rendered business.
4. O. Schrauren. “Sunday.” Chris Ware’s NYRB review alerted me to this book. He also educated me in possibilities of the comic-art-form to which I’d been oblivious. The story is quirky. The art is sneaky. The effect is strong. An enthralling display of panel positioning and page composition, of character creation and experiments with time.
5. Peter Weiss. “The Aesthetics of Resistance,” vol. I. Highly touted by a semi-regular at the café. It is a first person narrative by an unnamed teenage Communist in 1930s Germany, which carries through the Spanish Civil War. Without chapters or dialogue, it was nearly unreadable until I found guidance in Wikipedia – and discovered a glossary at book’s end which explained who the characters were. The book’s thrust is the failure of Communists and Social Democrats to unite to effectively fight Fascism, intertwined with expositions on particular works of art.
6. Rick Atkinson. “Fate of the Day.” His second volume of the American Revolutionary War. I’ve previously stated what I like about Atkinson’s military histories, so I won’t repeat myself. Only one (not yet published) volume to go, but I think I’m in good shape for when the Ken Burns documentary series begins.
7. Peter Weiss. “The Aesthetics of Resistance,” vol. II. After the war’s end the narrator escapes to France and then to Sweden, an assumed identity. He continues his working for the Party while assisting the Soviets struggle against the Nazis. He becomes involved with Brecht, who is also an ex-pat there, and his theories on art. All heavy stuff. I was still managing only abut five pages a day but the going was easier.
8. R. Crumb. “Heroes of Blues, Jazz & Country.” This collects the trading cards Crumb did on these figures into one volume. A minimalist page of text is set beside Crumb’s portrait of each figure. (The texts on the country artists are the longest.) Each portrait, apparently based on a single photo of each individual, is raw and simple, yet Crumb captures an expression of individuality and character in them all.
9. Henrik Pontoppidan. “A Fortunate Man.” A friend recommended this. Pontoppidan, a Dane, won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1917. I did not care for it. I did not care for the protagonist and the pages reeked with anti-Semitism. Minor characters were well-crafted and the picture of the society was well done – but seemed ridiculous. Which is how, I expect – and hope – people 108 years from now will characterize ours.
10. Bruce Chrislip. “The Minicomix Revolution.” I learned a lot about a phenomenon and its practitioners I had barely considered. Significant thoughts about art arose. Take a sheet of paper; fold it in half, Fold it in half again, and you have a four-page comic. Swap them for other four-pagers or sell them for pennies or leave them on shelves or counters to be carried away. You are an artist. Wow!
Adventures in Marketing — Week 508
Our setting up for the Launch Party caught the eyes of a couple than might have been in their 90s, a geneticist and his wife. He has written about a dozen books, so, perhaps from sympathy, perhaps from brotherhood, he bought mine. My first direct sale of MESSIAHS to a stranger.
During the week, I sold a copy to a friend, a retired newspaper reporter, who had missed the launch because of complications from a medical procedure and to a semi-retired plumber, who is a friend of the son of a cartoonist (Vaughn Bode) about whom I wrote. He lives in Grass Valley now and only comes down when he has a job.
Had a couple inquiries from people who want to talk to me about the book, which may lead somewhere or other. They have my number but neither has produced a phone call yet.
In other news…
I had been wondering what I would do after the dust from the launch had settled. I know I don’t have another book in me. Would I lie back and smell the roses? Were 500 Adventures sufficient? But an editor at tcj.com dangled a couple ideas for articles in front of me, and I bit on one.
So stay tuned.
During the week, I sold a copy to a friend, a retired newspaper reporter, who had missed the launch because of complications from a medical procedure and to a semi-retired plumber, who is a friend of the son of a cartoonist (Vaughn Bode) about whom I wrote. He lives in Grass Valley now and only comes down when he has a job.
Had a couple inquiries from people who want to talk to me about the book, which may lead somewhere or other. They have my number but neither has produced a phone call yet.
In other news…
I had been wondering what I would do after the dust from the launch had settled. I know I don’t have another book in me. Would I lie back and smell the roses? Were 500 Adventures sufficient? But an editor at tcj.com dangled a couple ideas for articles in front of me, and I bit on one.
So stay tuned.
Adventures in Marketing — Week 507.5
Okay, ,the Analytics Dept. has poured over the stats gathered from the MESSIAHS launch party. Of the 26 invited guests I’d deemed “Definite” attendees, 13 came, three with partners, and one of whom brought three friends. Seven already had copies and six bought them, as did two of the guests.
Of the 25 invitees I’d considered “Maybe,” five came, and three bought copies.
Of 10 invitees I’d considered “Unlikely,” three came, and all bought a book.
Five people I knew but hadn’t specifically invited came. Three bought a book; one already had one and one received a copy in a trade.
No one was under 60. One was Asian-American and one Mexican-American. Eighty-percent were male. Slightly more than half were Jewish.
Among the (almost all retired) attendees were an ER physician, glass artist, painter (art, not commercial), PR guy, parks worker, two psychotherapists, an animator, two novelists, a workers’ comp judge, two lawyers, a labor organizer, two electricians, an engineer or two, an English professor, a film studies professor, and a roots musician/owner of a guitar shop (sales and repair).
It was SRO. People mingled; cake and grapes were served. I read and talked and answered (or ducked) questions. (The one I ducked was why there weren’t more female cartoonists and, implicitly, why I didn’t write more about the ones there were.) Everyone seemed to have a good time. The only non-good time seemed to have been in the dark portion of my brain which bitched about more people not coming and more books no being sold. But like the person who asked me about the women cartoonists wisely said, “Look, it’s not like you’re trying to make a living out of this.”
I certainly enjoyed seeing people I hadn’t expected to see. (I was touched by those who made an extra effort to come.) And it was instructive to consider my reactions to the people who didn’t come. Some I worried about; some fostered grudges that grew. (There were lessons in humility to be had as well.) It occurred to me that when I next see some of these people, they will buy a book and my reactions may change.
Detach and observe.
Of the 25 invitees I’d considered “Maybe,” five came, and three bought copies.
Of 10 invitees I’d considered “Unlikely,” three came, and all bought a book.
Five people I knew but hadn’t specifically invited came. Three bought a book; one already had one and one received a copy in a trade.
No one was under 60. One was Asian-American and one Mexican-American. Eighty-percent were male. Slightly more than half were Jewish.
Among the (almost all retired) attendees were an ER physician, glass artist, painter (art, not commercial), PR guy, parks worker, two psychotherapists, an animator, two novelists, a workers’ comp judge, two lawyers, a labor organizer, two electricians, an engineer or two, an English professor, a film studies professor, and a roots musician/owner of a guitar shop (sales and repair).
It was SRO. People mingled; cake and grapes were served. I read and talked and answered (or ducked) questions. (The one I ducked was why there weren’t more female cartoonists and, implicitly, why I didn’t write more about the ones there were.) Everyone seemed to have a good time. The only non-good time seemed to have been in the dark portion of my brain which bitched about more people not coming and more books no being sold. But like the person who asked me about the women cartoonists wisely said, “Look, it’s not like you’re trying to make a living out of this.”
I certainly enjoyed seeing people I hadn’t expected to see. (I was touched by those who made an extra effort to come.) And it was instructive to consider my reactions to the people who didn’t come. Some I worried about; some fostered grudges that grew. (There were lessons in humility to be had as well.) It occurred to me that when I next see some of these people, they will buy a book and my reactions may change.
Detach and observe.
Adventures in Marketing — Week 507
N___, a fine artist and recently retired teacher at a school for troubled adolescents, cast an eye over MESSIAHS, MESHUGGANAHS, MISANTHROPES & MYSTERIES and said, “I’ve been called most of those things. But not all of them”
Sold copies to a retired social worker, who can’t make the event, and to two practicing therapist, one of whom can’t and one of whom who can. (Each received a t-shirt.) Gave a book to a retired electrician who had once given me a semi-valuable book by the Hairy Who. One semi-retired attorney in North Jersey received his Kindle version. One cartoonist and one fellow from the comix world reported buying copies.
Sold a t-shirt to an artist in NYC who had previously bought a book. Swapped a copy (and a t-shirt) to a former tree trimmer/photographer/rock drummer currently living in his van in return for a belt of Mexican leather with a scorpion design and a buckle from the Himalayas from which the lapis had fallen off. A retired mime said he would love to buy a copy but doesn’t have room in his house for it.
New declinations from invitees because they must play in an chamber music recital in Livermore, they are attending a six-year-old grandson’s birthday party, and they have been hospitalized with bleeding from the penis. (Well, we wouldn’t want him.)
Meanwhile, the cakes have been ordered and a semi-professional sound system promised by F___. I have declined his offers of music and to introduce me before I read.
Sold copies to a retired social worker, who can’t make the event, and to two practicing therapist, one of whom can’t and one of whom who can. (Each received a t-shirt.) Gave a book to a retired electrician who had once given me a semi-valuable book by the Hairy Who. One semi-retired attorney in North Jersey received his Kindle version. One cartoonist and one fellow from the comix world reported buying copies.
Sold a t-shirt to an artist in NYC who had previously bought a book. Swapped a copy (and a t-shirt) to a former tree trimmer/photographer/rock drummer currently living in his van in return for a belt of Mexican leather with a scorpion design and a buckle from the Himalayas from which the lapis had fallen off. A retired mime said he would love to buy a copy but doesn’t have room in his house for it.
New declinations from invitees because they must play in an chamber music recital in Livermore, they are attending a six-year-old grandson’s birthday party, and they have been hospitalized with bleeding from the penis. (Well, we wouldn’t want him.)
Meanwhile, the cakes have been ordered and a semi-professional sound system promised by F___. I have declined his offers of music and to introduce me before I read.
Adventures in Marketing — Week 506
A nephew reports buying a MESSIAHS. Four other nephews, plus a niece, have withstood such an impulse. So have, as far as I know, all cousins, first, second and beyond. (My and Adele’s siblings received freebies.)
Had two sales myself. One went to a multi-media artist, already a reader, in the Bronx, and the other to an animator/artist in Huntington Beach, who got me through my web site. What got him to that, I can’t say.
In other news…
The launch party continues to occupy my mind. (REMINDER: Oct. 19. 2:00 PM. French Hotel Café. 1538 Shattuck Ave. Berkeley.) Paper plates and plastic forks have been purchased. (Cake and fruit to come.) Have loaded up on $10 bills, so I can give change to anyone who buys a book with two $20s. Fran, who is in charge of promotion, artistic direction, and the sound system, is getting itt together.
The t-shirts, which he also designed, silk=screened and printed, have arrived and are FABULOUS. Everyone who buys a book will receive one (M, L or XL) . (Alternatively, you can buy a t-shirt – also $30 – and receive a free book.) 28 people (some with partners) have said they will come, and some have invited friends. Nine have more-or-less sent regrets; 29 have not made their intentions known.
On a strictly positive note, 380 people responded to Fantagraphics on-line announcement of the book, which is far more of an audience than I knew I had. A couple were delighted and/or excited.
Adventures in Marketing: Weeks 504 – 505
Sold a MESSIAHS to a cartoonist in Tacoma. (He threw in three copies of a zine of his, so I will add one of my mini-launch posters to his bundle.) And gave a CHEESESTEAK to the fellows who will be interviewing me in December for a podcast/You Tube video for their “Amusing Jews” web site. I figured my bar mitzvah chapter in particular would provide useful “deep background.”
The invitation reminded me that when I began writing I aspired only to become a cult novelist. I whiffed on the “novelist” part, and my “cult,” while smaller than hoped for, is certainly more eclectic than I’d imagined. I may have been overlooked by mainstream media, but I’ve been well treated by “Reason,” the Libertarian magazine, and interviewed by a representative of Suicide Girls and underground political artist/cartoonists in the Balkans. Now comes AJ.
It’s all good.
In other news…
Fantagraphics announcement at FB of MESSIAHS impending release (Oct. 14) garnered 35 responses, which, considering my own posts do well with half-a-dozen, was gratifying. (My “sharing” of the announcement drew another 20.)
A dose of modesty-inducing reality was administered when a woman at the café asked what my book was about.
“Comics and cartoonists,” I said.
“Oh, I know a lot of 16-year-old boys who will love it,” she said.
“Adults will like it too,” I said, once I had regained my footing,
Reminder: Launch party 2:00 pm, Oct. 19th, French Hotel Cafe.
All Bob’s books available from www.theboblevin.com
The invitation reminded me that when I began writing I aspired only to become a cult novelist. I whiffed on the “novelist” part, and my “cult,” while smaller than hoped for, is certainly more eclectic than I’d imagined. I may have been overlooked by mainstream media, but I’ve been well treated by “Reason,” the Libertarian magazine, and interviewed by a representative of Suicide Girls and underground political artist/cartoonists in the Balkans. Now comes AJ.
It’s all good.
In other news…
Fantagraphics announcement at FB of MESSIAHS impending release (Oct. 14) garnered 35 responses, which, considering my own posts do well with half-a-dozen, was gratifying. (My “sharing” of the announcement drew another 20.)
A dose of modesty-inducing reality was administered when a woman at the café asked what my book was about.
“Comics and cartoonists,” I said.
“Oh, I know a lot of 16-year-old boys who will love it,” she said.
“Adults will like it too,” I said, once I had regained my footing,
Reminder: Launch party 2:00 pm, Oct. 19th, French Hotel Cafe.
All Bob’s books available from www.theboblevin.com
Adventures in Marketing: Week 503
Sold a MESSIAHS – and was told by a former secretary/poet/grandmother of several, now living in Michigan, that she has ordered one.
The in-person purchaser was the friend whom frequent readers may recall from a couple Adventures ago as asking if he would be getting a free one. Now, when I told him the price, he said, “That’s a lot?” “It’s a good book,” I said. “There’re a lot of good books,” he said. “The publisher set the price,” I said. “You can probably get it for less at Amazon.” “Give me change.” He handed me two twenties.
This led to an interesting exchange as to why payment for my work was important to me since I did not need the money, in the course of which I made some assessments of my literary worth which probably most – more likely, nearly all – outside observers would dispute. It did not enter the conversation until later that he had recently purchased an ll-electric 50K Volvo so we did not explore why my price-setting even rippled his pond.
In other news – and again it’s all MESSIAHS:
1.) TCJ.com will run an extract from one of the pieces in the book, which will call attention to it in the corner of the world where it will matter most.
2.)The poster announcing the launch party has been up in the café for about a week. The only response I know of was the retired accountant who approached me to say that he had not known my last name, which was also that of his attorney;
3.) Mini-posters have been sent as “Thank-you”s to all people who ordered my book from me. (I would send them to people who bought the book from stores or on-line, but the postage would exceed my chintzy royalty rate.) Half the recipients said they thought the poster was cool. The other half has kept their opinions to themselves;
4.) Fran, who designed the poster and who is designing the launch’s commemorative T-shirt, promises final sketches in a couple days. The shirts themselves (100% cotton) are due Thursday, when he will silk-screen them. (FREE, remember, to the first 50 people to buy a book at the party.)
5.) Speaking of which, of the two-dozen people I thought most likely to come, seven have said they will be there; three will not (One is going to a book club; one to a conference; one to a sister’s birthday party); the rest have not been heard from. Of the two-dozen I thought semi-likely to attend, nine have said they are coming; (one is going to Majorca.); the rest have not been heard from. Of the dozen I thought least likely to attend, two have said they are coming. And two people who read about the party at FB said they will be there.
Long story short, it looks like we will have enough t-shirts.
The in-person purchaser was the friend whom frequent readers may recall from a couple Adventures ago as asking if he would be getting a free one. Now, when I told him the price, he said, “That’s a lot?” “It’s a good book,” I said. “There’re a lot of good books,” he said. “The publisher set the price,” I said. “You can probably get it for less at Amazon.” “Give me change.” He handed me two twenties.
This led to an interesting exchange as to why payment for my work was important to me since I did not need the money, in the course of which I made some assessments of my literary worth which probably most – more likely, nearly all – outside observers would dispute. It did not enter the conversation until later that he had recently purchased an ll-electric 50K Volvo so we did not explore why my price-setting even rippled his pond.
In other news – and again it’s all MESSIAHS:
1.) TCJ.com will run an extract from one of the pieces in the book, which will call attention to it in the corner of the world where it will matter most.
2.)The poster announcing the launch party has been up in the café for about a week. The only response I know of was the retired accountant who approached me to say that he had not known my last name, which was also that of his attorney;
3.) Mini-posters have been sent as “Thank-you”s to all people who ordered my book from me. (I would send them to people who bought the book from stores or on-line, but the postage would exceed my chintzy royalty rate.) Half the recipients said they thought the poster was cool. The other half has kept their opinions to themselves;
4.) Fran, who designed the poster and who is designing the launch’s commemorative T-shirt, promises final sketches in a couple days. The shirts themselves (100% cotton) are due Thursday, when he will silk-screen them. (FREE, remember, to the first 50 people to buy a book at the party.)
5.) Speaking of which, of the two-dozen people I thought most likely to come, seven have said they will be there; three will not (One is going to a book club; one to a conference; one to a sister’s birthday party); the rest have not been heard from. Of the two-dozen I thought semi-likely to attend, nine have said they are coming; (one is going to Majorca.); the rest have not been heard from. Of the dozen I thought least likely to attend, two have said they are coming. And two people who read about the party at FB said they will be there.
Long story short, it looks like we will have enough t-shirts.
Adventures in Marketing — Week 502
Gave an IWKYA to the charge nurse on the cardiac surgery floor in the hospital where I work as a volunteer. She had asked what else I did, and when I said I wrote, she expressed interest. Since some of that book is set on her floor, I thought it would be a good example of my work to show her.
And at an appointment with my cardiologist, I promised to bring her a MESSIAHS. (Adele says he noticed in my eyes a moment’s hesitation when I weighed charging her.) But she has been so important to us (and we to her) and we care for her so much (and she us) – plus she said, “I love cartoons.” I am not sure she has in mind those on which I focus, but still…
In other (MESSIAHS) news…
This moral/ethical thing (See previous “Adventure”) has become more twisted. Frequent readers will recall the poet who sent me a new collection of her poems, which, I felt, obligated me to send her a copy of my book, which I didn’t want to do. I had thought I had finessed that by sending her a collection of poems by a friend, but now she has emailed me to be alert to another book she is sending. So how do I respond to that?
I think I will send her a signed, ltd. ed. (so far) miniaturized copy of my book launch poster by F___, my West Coast promo man. In fact, I liked this gesture so much, I sent one to everyone who has bought or, so long as copies last, will buy MESSIHS from me, mail-order.
And at an appointment with my cardiologist, I promised to bring her a MESSIAHS. (Adele says he noticed in my eyes a moment’s hesitation when I weighed charging her.) But she has been so important to us (and we to her) and we care for her so much (and she us) – plus she said, “I love cartoons.” I am not sure she has in mind those on which I focus, but still…
In other (MESSIAHS) news…
This moral/ethical thing (See previous “Adventure”) has become more twisted. Frequent readers will recall the poet who sent me a new collection of her poems, which, I felt, obligated me to send her a copy of my book, which I didn’t want to do. I had thought I had finessed that by sending her a collection of poems by a friend, but now she has emailed me to be alert to another book she is sending. So how do I respond to that?
I think I will send her a signed, ltd. ed. (so far) miniaturized copy of my book launch poster by F___, my West Coast promo man. In fact, I liked this gesture so much, I sent one to everyone who has bought or, so long as copies last, will buy MESSIHS from me, mail-order.
Adventures in Marketing: Weeks 499 — 501
Sold a MESSIAHS to a college friend. (This makes the score: high school: 1; college: 1; law school: 1; entire adult life: 3).
Gave a MESSIAHS to a Berkeley friend who had given me a copy of his recently published novel. And swapped a MESSIAHS to a fellow in Cincinnati for a copy of his recently re-issued history of mini-comix.
No café action, except for conversations with two people who did/could not read books. One, a fortyish fellow in polo shirt and slacks, looked foreign, and when I asked what he did, replied so vaguely in terms of unspecified tasks for multiple family businesses that my immediate association was international ill-dealings. (Maybe, I thought, I should cut back on all the TV crime shows I’ve been viewing.)
The other was a woman who stops by every Sunday on her way to church. Actually, she is still seeking a satisfactory religion. She had been born Jewish and converted to Catholicism but it was too expensive. (“I can’t afford $100 for an annual dinner.”) She had recently tried a non-denominational church, but “Everyone was 80, and I’m not even 70.” When I asked what she did other mornings, she said, “ I sleep. I’ve told you I’m schizophrenic, right, Bob? I take a lot of pills.”
In other news…
An ethical/moral dilemma has arisen. I was discussing the upcoming MESSIAHS launch party with a friend, and he asked, “Am I getting a free copy?” “$30,” I said. Then he asked to be reminded when the party was. Now I can (fairly) distinctly remember his replying “It’s in my book” when I sent out the announcement, but he now said it conflicted with his next book club meeting. I’m not saying there’s a cause-and-effect here, but…
As regular readers may recall, this “free copies” issue has pre-occupied me previously, but I can’t recall anyone ever asking for one. (The closest anyone’s come was the lawyer friend, who never bought a book of mine, but who would ask me be sure to invite another lawyer friend to readings because he knew that fellow would and he could borrow it.) With my self-published books, I am reasonably generous with freebies, but when I am buying from my publisher, even with a discount, I am tighter-fisted.
What I should have done was tell my friend if his book club picked mine for its next meeting, I will give them a bulk rate. (“Buy five; get one free.”) In fact, if he is reading this, the offer stands.If anyone in a book club wants to do business, I will deal.
After all, I’ve ended seven wars.
Gave a MESSIAHS to a Berkeley friend who had given me a copy of his recently published novel. And swapped a MESSIAHS to a fellow in Cincinnati for a copy of his recently re-issued history of mini-comix.
No café action, except for conversations with two people who did/could not read books. One, a fortyish fellow in polo shirt and slacks, looked foreign, and when I asked what he did, replied so vaguely in terms of unspecified tasks for multiple family businesses that my immediate association was international ill-dealings. (Maybe, I thought, I should cut back on all the TV crime shows I’ve been viewing.)
The other was a woman who stops by every Sunday on her way to church. Actually, she is still seeking a satisfactory religion. She had been born Jewish and converted to Catholicism but it was too expensive. (“I can’t afford $100 for an annual dinner.”) She had recently tried a non-denominational church, but “Everyone was 80, and I’m not even 70.” When I asked what she did other mornings, she said, “ I sleep. I’ve told you I’m schizophrenic, right, Bob? I take a lot of pills.”
In other news…
An ethical/moral dilemma has arisen. I was discussing the upcoming MESSIAHS launch party with a friend, and he asked, “Am I getting a free copy?” “$30,” I said. Then he asked to be reminded when the party was. Now I can (fairly) distinctly remember his replying “It’s in my book” when I sent out the announcement, but he now said it conflicted with his next book club meeting. I’m not saying there’s a cause-and-effect here, but…
As regular readers may recall, this “free copies” issue has pre-occupied me previously, but I can’t recall anyone ever asking for one. (The closest anyone’s come was the lawyer friend, who never bought a book of mine, but who would ask me be sure to invite another lawyer friend to readings because he knew that fellow would and he could borrow it.) With my self-published books, I am reasonably generous with freebies, but when I am buying from my publisher, even with a discount, I am tighter-fisted.
What I should have done was tell my friend if his book club picked mine for its next meeting, I will give them a bulk rate. (“Buy five; get one free.”) In fact, if he is reading this, the offer stands.If anyone in a book club wants to do business, I will deal.
After all, I’ve ended seven wars.