So I made this storefront thing. You can get a flask.
A couple really nice reviews have hit the web recently here and here. Great sites you should add to your RSS reader toot sweet.
Also, friend-of-the-blog Dana King (GRIND JOINT) was nice enough to chat me up this week, as were the WSPR folks yesterday and the Book Chatter tonight with me and Neil Smith, John Rector, Johnny Shaw, and Stacey Cochran.
And next week I'll be in Richmond and New York City, reading and signs tens of copies of my book. These two events will consist of standing in front of people and trying to be entertaining or interesting enough for them to feel like it was worth the bother.
So, um, how do I do that?
I expect it's a nerve-wracking experience. Writers don't always handle this well. At a reading once, William Faulkner became so nervous, that he defecated down the back of trousers.
I don't expect it to get that bad.
Here at DSD, I've talked about readings and author events. But that was in the abstract. Now this is kinda concrete, Lord willin and the creek don't rise.
And by "concrete" I mean the thing that hits my head if and when I pass out trying to read in front of people. What if I mispronounce something? What if I skip a line? What if there's a typo on the book? What I look up and see two people talking instead of listening to me because oh lord am I that boring but maybe they're talking about me and maybe they're saying how they were told I was a good writer but look at me up there now who do I think I am after all I'm no Karen Russell hell I'm not even Russell Karen who is that oh that's the guy I went to summer camp with and he shit himself in archery class oh you mean like William Faulkner?
So, you know, the reading.
I'm told to keep it under four hours and that handing out $100 bills to the audience is fine. I'm not sure about either of these things. I think my agent was probably just kidding about both. But I've never really understood her humor.
If you come out for readings, what do you like? What are some good ones you've been to? If you hate readings, why do you hate them?
What can I do to make you happy?
(UPDATE: Turns out the William Faulkner pooping his pants thing was a skit by Jimmy Kimmel, a late-night television comic. Sorry. We regret the error.)