Sold two books.
A visibly pregnant, mid-thirtyish, African-American developer, after picking up and putting down “The Schiz,” selected “Cheesesteak.” Her carpenter-turned-substance-abuse-counselor husband went for “IWKYA.” They assured me they would get back to me with their responses but so far…
I am still surprised by how often this is the case.
In other news…
A fun thing is where this writing/selling takes me, roads beginning in the past, twisting and turning, finding their way to a present.
1.) Because of his newly revealed interest in “Last Exit to Brooklyn,” I connected the editor of an on-line magazine to which I regularly contribute, having been led there by a writer/musician whom I met playing tennis in the ‘70s, to a cartoonist/writer whom I knew had once interviewed Hubert Selby, Jr. This fellow and I had connected on-line 30 years ago, due to my having tipped a hat to Nick Tosches, whom he also knew. (Tosches is of interest to the editor too.) I don’t claim to be Ezra Pound, but this is at least the seventh person I have sent this editor’s way.
2.) I also put together a woman who is involved with a forthcoming anthology of stories about Atlantic City (one of which is by me) and a co-author of a just-published history of boxing there, thinking they may do some mutually beneficial signing/promotion.
3.) Then the fellow from my neighborhood to whom I recently sent “Cheesesteak” (See “Adventure” 289) responded with a lengthy, rich response of his own recollections/experiences.
He was several years younger than me, and the sense I’d had of him as a kid would not have expected him to respond to the portions of my book which he didd. (Just goes to show you. That’s the lesson for today.) He also recalled me as “remote,” which I prefer to “introverted,” which is how another of our contemporaries – a Jungian – insists on describing me.
Sold two books.