I hope you’ve already got your plane ticket and hotel room, as the date approaches of the book release party for I’d Tear Down the Stars short story collection. I’d say the date approaches like—let me see, what would be a good metaphor? Like a bus coming down a steep hill driven by the Joker from Batman.
You don’t want to miss that. Perhaps you’ve heard how much writers love to promote their work, maybe even more than they like the actual writing. . . No, wait, that’s in Bizarro World, where everything is backwards. Although in Bizarro World all the writers would be rich.
So October 9 lurches upon us, and on that day I’ll gather loved ones, and acquainted ones, and some who I could imagine being loved ones if I could get them drunk enough, and we will celebrate the release of the new book. It is being released you see, like a dove from a cage, where it will glide in a glorious gyre, going ever higher. That’s the idea anyway.
We now have the event pretty well arranged, and it will flash its fabulousness at the Highland Inn Ballroom. You remember where Plaza Drugs used to be, near the Majestic Diner? Anyway, it’s around the corner. As our flyer says, the doors open at 3:30, and a bartender or two will be on duty, because after all, this is a writing event. As a sponsor, we have the Conjuration fantasy convention (and I’ll be speaking at that convention in November).
During the book release party, I’ll read from some of the short stories in the collection, and I feel very fortunate that several good writers have agreed to participate and read from their work as well. Also on the line-up we have Stacia Brown (Accidents of Providence), Chris Bundy (Baby, You’re a Rich Man), and Jonathan French (The Grey Bastards). If you haven’t bought your plane ticket yet, you’ll also want to know that my brother Donald and his daughter Sarah will be doing music.
I will confess, here in the privacy of a blog post, that getting all this set up has not been easy. Or I assume it hasn’t. My publicist has done most of the work, but he looked tired one day. Since he was working so hard, I offered to take on the burden of feeling stressed and anxious about every little thing.
Because this is a book release party, whose purpose is to, you know, publicize a book, it seemed like a perfect adjunct to the event to have an actual book on hand. So OK, this one little detail has allowed me to practice inner Buddhist would-be tranquility, and practice, and practice, and where the fuck are the books? I wouldn’t dream of boring you with actual details, but let’s just say that as the bus is coming down the hill, the Joker is waving a pistol out the window and laughing maniacally.
Yesterday I gave final approval to the printer on the book, and then, in an act that I personally felt required a bit of boldness, I ordered 100 copies. I haven’t seen a print copy, which would have been ideal, but that bus is rolling, October 9 is coming, and those books need to go in a box and get shipped. For this event, we will charge $10 to get in, and in return people get—ha!—a free copy of the new book. Once I receive the books. I trust fate to do this.
I’m sure you’re looking forward to the book release party. It’s a chance to hear Georgia writers reading from their work. How can it get better than that? Plus we have bartenders.