joemmama
This was great.
I had Lunch yesterday with Pam Felzien, her daughter Jennifer, and her granddaughter Victoria – three generations of Felzien women – all writers – and it was definitely the highlight of my trip. Pam is also reviewing my book later in May at Life Happens While Books are Waiting her blog on books. All three are voracious readers and I love Pam’s handle at her site: joemmama.
We ate at the Landsdowne Pub across from the Tattered Cover Bookstore in Highlands Ranch, Colorado where a spit ball flew onto Jennifer’s plate from the booth next to us just as our lunches arrived. Fortunately it was dry and simply an overshot from a woman who was aiming at her boyfriend – but it gave us all a good laugh to start off our meal with.
All three read my book as a PDF (never an easy thing to do from my perspective) – Victoria finishing it at 2am that morning. They met me at 12 so I hope she got some sleep. Since Victoria is a young adult and the perfect age for my book I was especially happy to hear that she’d enjoyed it.
All three were a delight to meet and speak with. It was so nice to be in the company of three book lovers who also happened to be writers. Talking about books – including Open Wounds – movies, what each was writing, and how we came to be sitting there at that table at this particular point in our lives seemed somehow full of karmic goodness. After the uncomfortable work of selling my book to booksellers (though it definitely got easier as I went along) who knew nothing about me and who took me in as a cold call salesman (even if they were gracious about it)- it was great to relax and enjoy Denver in the company of folks who had at least some idea of who I was. The real fun for me was finding out about them and commiserating on the trials and tribulations of writing.
The kicker was as I was about to leave I took out a pen to take down their address so I could send them a real copy of the book when it comes out next month and Pam took out a pen also. We were two writing gunslingers drawn pens in hand.
“Nice pen,” she said and I noticed what she had already noticed. We both held out a Levenger True Writer – mine the Sea Glass and hers the Kyoto. If you’ve never used one of their pens you’re missing something. They are awesome writing utensils made for the writer who, when looking for something to write with, needs… just the right pen. They’re worth every penny and it was a perfect way to end the lunch.
It felt like I’d just finished lunch with a few friends and the warmth of their company was wonderful. Thank you, ladies, for making my afternoon in Denver just perfect.
Author Here…
So I thought I was a somebody but after my first bookstore visit, sans review copy to give but loaded with a gift of two coffee mugs with quotes from the book printed on the outside… and filled with candy and… press kits… I’m back to being a nobody. It’s good for me. I wouldn’t want to get too big an ego over this writing thing.
At the LoDo Tattered Cover Bookstore in Denver, Colorado, I met Lucas, a bookseller who took me to a back area and let me talk to him about my book for ten minutes. You’d think a professional speaker such as myself would be able to chat up his book without any difficulty but here’s the thing. It’s hard to do. Lucas was a good sport and listened to me stumble through a one sentence synopsis (God how I hate those) followed by some short Q and A about who Cid Wymann was and how it should be sold. He asked about – gulp – theme and I came up with something which I won’t repeat. Didn’t I just write about theme in my author interview for the press kit and at least one interview for a blogger? If I could only link my tongue and brain together.
A couple of things I said, though, did seem to be useful to him – things which I will remember to repeat as I go to the Barnes and Noble down the block for my next ten minute humbling session.
- I told him it was both a historical novel and that it was realistic fiction. I told him there was no magic, were no vampires, and dealt with real issues boys have to deal with. He liked that and took it down as a note.
- I told him it was a boy book and showed him the old cover and new cover. The cover grabbed his attention because it was not a picture of a girl. “Swords,” he said. Now his eyes could have lit up or it could have been my imagination. He said the whole YA section is filled with girl books for girls and knowing this was a boy book would help him to sell it differently – to make it stand out from the shelves of books for girls already out there. This was a good moment for me. I’m defining my market. Whew. I have a market.
- I told him there was a lot about swords and swordplay but that it was not a fantasy novel and had to do with both competitive fencing and stage combat for the theatre. That got a note too.
I swung through the bookstore’s YA section after we finished to see what was there and yes, indeed, there are a lot of books for girls and young women. Not just them, but that certainly is the impression from the face-outs. Interesting. Very similar, of course, to what Andrew Smith has been saying on his blog. But there’s nothing like first hand experience.
So I’d planned on 20 minutes of talking to staff and got 10. Now I’ve got two hours to go before my next appointment, a twenty-minute walk to get to the bookstore, and a beautiful evening to sit outside and write before I move on. My stomachs a little less upset now that the first one’s over with. Butterflies were floating around there before but now they seem to have settled.
Thank you, Lucas at Tattered Cover LoDo. You helped me get through my first promotional gig with only minor injury to my ego. It’s an absolutely beautiful bookstore, by the way. The kind of place I could hang out in to drink coffee, read books, or write. And from what I could tell of the customers, that’s what a lot of them are doing. Now it’s off to the dinner and the next stop.
A Somebody
Around my house we’re using this saying. I used to be a nobody – now I’m a somebody. I know. I know. It’s kind of trite but it’s what I’ve come up with to explain the change in my life since getting my debut novel accepted for publication. Now, I’m a somebody.
Here’s what I mean.
Before the acceptance any letter I wrote to an author asking for help, like with a please-buy-my-book blurb, or a request for a review of a manuscript, or even a request for a suggestion about an agent to send it to – these all would have been met (unless they were a friend or a writer I knew well) with a friendly … no. I understand this and it’s a good rule. Stephen King can’t be reading all his fan’s, who also happen to be writer’s, manuscripts and give them a blurb. He’d never get any work done if that were the case. Okay. I’ll admit it. I was once so desperate for a contact, any contact with the machinery of publishing, that I wrote a letter to Stephen King. I never sent it. I read, after pouring my heart out in two single spaced pages, about his no answering letters policy and decided, reluctantly, against it.
After acceptance I was fortunate enough to get blurbs from six writers I had never met before – all award winners and really nice people who took a chance on reading my debut novel without knowing anything about me or the book. I was a fan of their books but that’s my connection to them, not theirs to me. But my book had been accepted for publication and WestSide Books’ name was on it. My publisher said, “Just give them my contact information if they want to make sure about the press.” I don’t think anybody called her. They just wrote me blurbs. Mind you twenty plus other authors did not write blurbs for me but they were also very nice in writing personal notes to me when they said no. I’m a somebody.
Before acceptance who would want to interview me about writing? Yes, I’d published a bunch of short stories and articles of different sorts – but nothing about the art and process of writing. I guess you could say I’d been living the life of a writer in my after full-time job work hours, but that doesn’t count for much until you can hang your hat on a book with your name on it. I’m the same guy I was eight months ago in August before I got the call from my agent telling me she’d sold my book. I’m the same guy I was two months ago before the publicity campaign began and my publicist starting getting interested bloggers and interviewers to contact me. A debut novel is a line in the sand that I am passing over. I’m a somebody.
So… for a little while I’ll be a somebody. My son laughs when I tell him this and wonders if it will make me any better at spelling. Probably not. That’s what spell check is for (thank the great cosmic entities for spell check). My wife wonders if it will make me any better at taking out the garbage, putting my dishes away, helping in the organization of the household, or being more aware of our financial situation. Let’s just say these are areas of growth I need to work on. My dogs don’t seem to notice any difference at all. To them I’m still the guy who takes them out at 6am every morning. Two days ago, Spike lifted his leg and peed on me. They keep me grounded.
A writer friend said to me recently, “Don’t forget to enjoy it.” It – being the being a somebody. Oh yeah.
I’ll try not to.
ARCs
Open Wounds ARC
Open Wounds ARC
ARCs are advanced reader copies. They are trade paperback size versions of my book that will be sent out to reviewers for pre-publication reviews. The ones sitting in front of me have the old cover on them (which although not as cool as the final version that will be going on the hard cover – is still pretty impressive to me).
I opened the box left on my door step by UPS from Everbind (where WestSide Books is housed in New Jersey) a few moments ago and five copies are staring up at me. I am sitting writing this and my fingers are tingling and I’m a bit light-headed. I can’t believe a book with my name on it is staring up at me. It’s beautiful.
When I was 16 and first started to write (I entered an essay contest and was a finalist but didn’t win because, as a judge told me later confidentially, “You could have won – we all loved what you wrote – except your spelling was so bad it put you out of the final spot.”) I hadn’t really imagined this moment. As I wrote and sent out stories and received one rejection after another over the next thirteen years I still didn’t think of myself with a book in front of me with my name on it. But by the time I was thirty I had written my first book and had begun my second, and although I hadn’t found an agent yet (I would write to 74 before I found my first) I’d published a few short stories and all of a sudden I realized I was capable of writing longer works and could be a… novelist. Over the next fifteen years the dream crystalized as I found an agent, then lost one, then found another and lost that one too. Two more agent later and the dream had almost faded. Too many rejections, too many agents, too many disappointments. I had written five novels the last one taking seven years to write, and not one had sold. I had just about given up last summer when my agent called, out of the blue – as they say – and all of a sudden – seven months later and I’m staring at an ARC of my book.
There are blurbs from eight author’s on the front and back covers saying how much they liked it. Most of these authors I’ve never met before but they did this wonderful thing for me.
There’s an acknowledgements page – a dedication page.
I can’t believe it. There’s a huge smile on my face. A huge smile.
Lunievicz 