As Farrar Straus & Giroux releases the paperback of ‘Timeless’ in stores today, I feel extremely humble. Not everyone gets their hardback made into paper and I am very lucky.
But there is a rather sad finality to it. It is as though I’ve had an abnormally long pregnancy and finally given birth to the last creation of the litter.
It’s now over. The years of research, the long hours each day of writing, the harrowing process of publication and waiting for reviews, which to my gratitude and surprise, were glowing. A writer, almost every writer, is often low on self-confidence, and finds it a pleasant and startling phenomenon when people love their work.
Writing is kind of like getting into an old jalopy that sputters and strains as you pull the choke. Then suddenly, after what seems to be forever, it starts and zooms off, hopefully driving you instead of the reverse.
And then there’s the book tour, if you are fortunate enough to get one. This is fun. Usually. Travelling around to new places, hearing hands clapping, signing books, lapping up praise.
But it’s not always like that. You never know when you get behind the podium whether you will have a full house, or a lot of empty seats.
I’ll never forget going into a chain bookstore to read from my last book, ‘My Father’s Secret War,’ about discovering my Dad was a spy. The store hadn’t advertised my reading very well. There were three people there, one of them a cousin and the other two, homeless men who wanted to get out of the rain. But you always have to give your audience, no matter how sparse, everything you’ve got. And treat them with respect.
Thank you to all of you for taking the time to read these posts, and for all of your comments, shares, and ‘likes.’ I truly look forward to meeting you at one of my upcoming book tour events soon!