The initial public response to my announcement of “Lollipop”s availability at Facebook (not a single “Like” or “Comment”) and blog (one belated “Congratulations”) was tempering and that of the 100-150 friends and acquaintances to whom I sent a personal e-mail
(four purchases, plus one “Cheesesteak”) only slightly widened my smile. But I sold eight books at the cafe in two days, including one to a fellow who had never bought from me before. Still, though I kept my print run (and costs) down, my break-even point is far away.
I know this is not the point. The point is the experience — of which this is part — and the enjoyment thereof; but it is a handy way to keep score, and it is difficult to shake the idea that “score” is what counts. It is also odd, as I have noted before, since books can only be bought from me, to know who has and who has not bought one, and then to have one’s attitude toward that person shaped accordingly. Odd and not particularly flattering about one’s ability to “rise above” such pettiness. (I am particularly grated by those whose own self-published books I have purchased but who have kept silent about their intentions toward my own.)
Adele is the only person I know who has begun “Lollipop”‘s reading. She has laughed, exclaimed, and asked a couple questions. (“What’s the Fourth Amendment?” “What’s DIY?”) She loves it, but she’s reading it from the POV of “This-is-the-guy-I’m-going-to-meet-and-marry-and-live-with-for-50-years.”
Oh, and George R. asked, “What’s the worst thing that happened to you?”, which led to a good discussion at a sidewalk table at the cafe.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.