Monthly Archives: April 2010
We got more great news and I’m so dim I didn’t realize it.
My editor, Keith, says, “Great news! We heard from Borders. Your book is going to be FOS!”
I’m like, “Ah….yea! And FOS is… Free on Sundays? Festering on Sales? Found Only Slowly?”
Seriously. He’s not paid enough for this. “Front of Store, you twit!”
“Ah. Yes. Of course. And that’s…a good thing?”
He should get Employee of the Year. Or else some serious drugs.
It means there gonna put “Crashers” on one of those tables that you see when you walk into a Borders. It’s the best location. It’s reason Number 1,397 to believe that St. Martin’s marketing people are complete geniuses. And Keith needs time in Aruba.
The thriller is already on Borders’ Web site.
June 22…. Guys? On Saturday, we can legitimately say, “That’s next month!”
I made a friend recently. Carol Fitzgerald runs a Web site called www.bookreporter.com. It’s fabulous. If you love lit, you gotta bookmark it.
But that’s not my point today.
Carol had this lovely essay this morning (it’s 3:49 a.m. Pacific Time, so you gotta wonder when she posted this. And what insomnia traits we share.)
Katy King, my girlfriend*, and I love to fly to Europe. People think we’re crazy when we say that. The process of being in an airliner is freaking fun. But Carol explained it today better than I ever could:
Carol writes: “As I bang out this note, I am flying to L.A. I love long flights as they give me time to write, read and think. On the ground I always have something to do and some place to be, whereas up in the air I can stay in the moment. I am one of those folks not really jazzed about the thought of WiFi in the air. I need a few hours once in a while to pretend I am catching up; of course, when I land, I am even further behind. We flew above the clouds for a while there, which always is such an unreal experience. I think I see the snow-covered Rockies out my window right now. I am glad not to be dealing with snow.”
Yes. Exactly. That’s why we love flying, too.
Carol writes about writers while kindly pretending she isn’t one. A lot of journalists do that.
(•Yes, for those of you who’ve met Katy, she’s way, way out of my league. Agreed.)