Matthew Dicks

I think I have finally found the perfect catchphrase to use when signing a reader’s book.

Since publishing my first two novels in 2009 and 2010, I have been searching for the perfect catchphrase to use while signing a reader’s book.

I wanted something short, clever, memorable and apropos to me that I could use in addition to my signature, but I had yet to find the right sentiment. I have even put the question out to my blog readers and Twitter followers without any success.

Instead, I have been writing arbitrary phrases like ‘I hope you enjoy my story’ and ‘Thanks so much for giving my book a chance’.

Meaningless drivel that caused me to suffer a great deal of disappointment and self-loathing with every signature.

But after years of searching, I think I have finally found the perfect catchphrase.

When signing a reader’s book, I will write:

I know we’ve only spent a few moments together, but you remind me so much of the spirit found on page 86 of my novel. 

Except each time I will change the page number to a different, arbitrary page, leaving the reader to analyze and scrutinize the page in an attempt to bring some meaning to my purposefully random, intentionally amorphous statement.

Can you imagine the look of consternation on the readers’ faces as they read and re-read the page, searching for a hint of themselves amidst my prose?

It would be priceless.

Or perhaps I will choose half a dozen different pages from the novel that are especially suited to this purpose. Pages that are emotionally charged or perhaps devoid of emotion completely. Pages so inscrutable as to have the reader wondering about my comment for years and years.

I think this might be perfect. It would give me the chance to personalize every book that I sign and infuse it with some meaning (albeit false) while staying true to my own nonconformist, occasionally jerky self.

It might even work out well for some readers.

The narcissist will undoubtedly find a way to transform my comment into a sincere and meaningful compliment.

The introspective soul will have the opportunity to examine the page with careful thought and reflection.

The self promotional office braggart will have a new and fascinating topic of discussion for the next day of work, perhaps even photocopying the page and distributing it to his or her coworkers in an attempt to crowd-source an analysis of my statement.

Either way, I will have a little fun with the reader, and it will almost guarantee that he or she will share the book with others in an attempt to ascertain the meaning of my statement. this process might even lead to a few more sales as well. 

Not bad. Right?

My approach to the book tour: Part 2

Yesterday I described the format of my typical book talk. 

Today I offer a few suggestions on how to guarantee success at a book talk.

1. One of the criticisms of my book talk format is that not everyone has a plethora of stories to tell about their books, and in these cases, reading from the text is required in order to fill the time.   

I do not believe this to be the case.

Even if it were true, however, I don’t think that filling the time by reading large portions of your book is ever a good idea. 

But still, I believe that everyone has a story to tell. 

While I have admittedly led a less-than-conventional life, I believe that everyone has stories waiting to be told.  When I prepare to compete in a Moth storytelling competition (as I am doing now), the first thing I do is ask my ten closest friends for stories that might fit the assigned topic, because I am constantly forgetting many of my story-worthy moments and discarding others as not interesting enough.   

Do the same.  Ask your friends and family what stories might be appropriate for your book talk, and remember that the connection between the story and the book does not have to be very strong.

If it’s a highly entertaining story, there connection between it and the book can almost be indiscernible. 

Also remember that people love to read and listen to stories about work.  Pulling back the curtain on your experience in the publishing world is often fertile grounds for storytelling.

2. When you’re finished with a book talk, write down all the questions that the audience asked you, or better yet, have a friend attend your talk and do this for you.  Questions from the audience often serve as excellent prompts for future stories, and they can often guide you in terms of what your future audiences will want to hear.

One of the questions I get quite often asks how and when I decided to become a writer.  The answer to this question is actually an interesting and amusing story from my days in high school, but I would have never thought to include this story in any of my talks had I not been asked the question so often.  When you find a story that audiences seem to appreciate, don’t wait for someone to ask you the right question in order to tell it.  Find a way to include it in every talk. 

3. Do not read from notes.  You should always speak extemporaneously.  As unfair as it may be, audiences expect authors to be effective, engaging public speakers, even though we spend much of our time alone and in our heads.  Reading word-for-word from a script (which I have seen done twice) will only cause the audience to question your abilities as a storyteller.  More importantly, watching someone read from a script is never entertaining.  Better to stumble a few times and speak from the heart than to simply read from a set of notecards.    

4. Don’t be afraid to form a partnership with another author.  There is nothing wrong with sharing the stage.  Not only does this double your prospective audience and introduce you to a new set of readers, but it can also be very helpful to a less experienced, less effective public speaker. 

I have partnered with a very successful author in the past who is an excellent writer but a less effective public speaker.  While she has many interesting stories to tell, she is often unable to weave these stories seamlessly into her talk.  She becomes nervous onstage and requires a moment or two to formulate her thoughts before she is able to answer questions from the audience.  When we work together, I serve as a moderator of sorts, sharing my own stories but also providing openings that allow her to tell her stories as well.  I answer questions from the audience first in order to provide her the time she needs to think, and I prompt her with questions of my own that I know will engender interesting and amusing responses from her.  The format works quite well, and together, we are able to draw a fairly large number of people to our events, making our talks enormously successful.     

5. A partnership between a traditionally published author and an indie author or even a self-published author can also be highly beneficial to both parties. Indie and self-published authors often have a difficult time arranging appearances in bookstores and libraries, but if they are partnered with a more traditionally published author, bookstores and libraries can often be convinced to sponsor a joint event.  In return for helping these authors gain access to these venues, traditionally published authors will often find themselves with considerably larger audiences than what they are normally accustomed to. Indie and self-published authors are people who have to aggressively sell themselves and will often pound the pavement incessantly in order to ensure that there is a decent-sized audience at an event.  A traditionally published author can take advantage of this entrepreneurial spirit by helping the indie author gain access to a venue and thus ensuring a very successful event for both parties.       

6. The day before an appearance, I often ask my Twitter and Facebook followers if there are any questions that they would like answered at my event, even if they will not be in attendance.  I write these questions on notecards and will use them to initiate the question-and-answer session if needed.  Having them in my pocket means that I am guaranteed to have 3-5 questions that I can use is my audience is less than forthcoming in terms of questions, and because I was able to choose them, they are questions that I know will provide me with interesting stories to tell.

7.  Be the last to leave person to leave your event.  Close up shop with the bookseller or librarian if possible.  The extra twenty or thirty minutes that you spend at the end of the night will mean a great deal to the stragglers who have hung around hoping for just a few more minutes with an author they admire.  Above all else, never appear to be in a rush to leave.  No author, regardless of his or her success, is so important as to run out the door immediately following the talk.    

8.  There is always one crazy person at every book talk (or at least this seems to be the case).  These are people who will attempt to monopolize your time, thrust half-written manuscripts into your hand and tell you stories about the conspiracy behind their failure to publish.  When you encounter these people, I try to be as direct and polite as possible.  With luck, your host will help redirect this person away from you.   

9.  It’s always better to be self-deprecating than self-aggrandizing.  Save all your success stories for your parents and grandparents.  Book talks are the time to roll out the most embarrassing and humiliating moments of your life.  Nothing helps an author connect to an audience better than a reminder that he or she can be just as stupid at times as everyone else.  

Thoughts on these suggestions?

Suggestions that you’d like to add?

Have you attended any of my previous book talks and have anything additional that you’d like to add about my performance? 

We’re all ears.

My approach to the book tour

The Wall Street Journal’s Joanne Kaufman wrote a piece on the way in which bookstores are beginning to rethink the traditional book tour that got a lot of attention in the publishing community. 

I have always followed a slightly non-traditional approach to my author appearances, similar to the rethinking that Kaufman describes, and I believe that it has served me well. 

Before I began my first book tour, I attended the reading of a bestselling author.  The appearance lasted a little more than an hour, and nearly the entire time was consumed with the author reading from the new book. 

I literally watched audience members, mostly men, nod off in the process.

A friend had accompanied me to the event, and he leaned over as the author droned on and asked, “Is this what you’re going to have to do?”

I vowed to avoid reading from my books whenever possible from that day on. 

Since publishing SOMETHING MISSING in the summer of 2009, I have spoken about my books more than one hundred times at bookstores, libraries, colleges, literary festivals, weekend retreats and book clubs.  While I occasionally read from my books, I only do so when an audience member or the person hosting the event insists. 

When I read, I always make it exceedingly short.

For me, an author appearance is an opportunity to introduce myself, rather than my books, to an audience.  While I hope to provide lots of background information about my books via storytelling and interest audience members enough to purchase a book, I know that there is more long-term value in making fans than in making immediate sales.

On more than one occasion, I have chosen to forgo speaking about my books entirely.  Not one mention of title or plot or characters. 

I’ve always felt that if an audience likes me and finds me interesting, they will read my books.  

When I speak to an audience, my goal is to be a storyteller.  I want to entertain.  Make them laugh.  Provide new and unusual insight.  Make a connection. 

I don’t want audience members to walk away feeling like they just received the hard sell.  I want them to feel like they know me better as a person, and with some luck, they want to know even more. 

My appearances typically consist of three parts.

Part 1 is pure storytelling, and it fills more than half of the time that I am speaking.  I gather as many amusing, unusual or interesting stories surrounding the book as possible and share them with the audience.  These could be stories about the actual process of writing the book, personal stories that connect to characters and/or plot lines or stories from my life that provided inspiration for the book. 

For my most recent book, UNEXPECTEDLY, MILO, this included stories about my fourth grade classmates, the day my daughter was born, a visit to Boca Raton, my wedding day, my grandfather and his experiences in World War II and more.  Each story has a specific connection to the book (some stronger and more direct than others), but more importantly, each story illuminates an aspect of my life while making audience members laugh and think and connect.

Part 2 consists of a series of book recommendations.  I bring a stack of books to every author appearance and share these recommendations with the audience, reading tiny snippets from the books whenever possible.  I try to include a mix of genre and formats, and I also always try to have a story or anecdote to tell about each book that I am going to recommend.  This serves three purposes. 

It gives the audience a chance to get to know me as a reader. 

It gives me a chance to promote the authors who I love.

Most important, it gives me another opportunity to tell stories about myself and the books that I adore.

Part 3 is a question and answer session, and I always begin this portion by encouraging the audience to ask anything that they would like.  The stranger the question, the better.  Sometimes I bring a prize for the audience member who asks the most unusual question of the evening, just to encourage more out-of-the-box thinking.  I encourage people to try to stump me, embarrass me, shock me, or put me on the spot with their questions, because I know that this will often be entertaining to the rest of the audience.

The strangest question I ever received (and it was asked in all sincerity) was:

What role do your ex-girlfriends and former lovers play in your writing life?

While the real answer is none, I used the opportunity to weave in three amusing stories about ex-girlfriends, one which had the audience roaring with laughter.

Every opportunity to tell a story should be seized by the throat.   

I have also learned that you cannot rely on audience questions for the bulk of your talk, because there are times when you simply will not be asked very many questions.  If I was guaranteed an unending stream of questions, I would almost prefer to transform my whole talk a question-and-answer session, since this would probably result in the most dynamic and surprising of exchanges.  But audiences are a fickle bunch.  Some have questions but are too nervous to ask them in front of others.  Others simply wish to be passive participants in the event.  Sometimes people just can’t think of anything to ask.  And sometimes people want to go home because their favorite television show is coming on at 9:00.

I’ve had to stop answering questions after 45 minutes, and I’ve also received only one or two token questions from the event host.

Once I am done speaking, I remain behind to sign books, but I also invite audience members to ask me any additional questions that they did not want to ask publicly while I sign their book.  This leads to quite a bit of discussion, and many times I end up leading a second question-and-answer session with the hardcore book lovers who have not already left. 

This is oftentimes my favorite part of a book talk.  These are the people I typically want to get to know best.  These are the people who read fifty books a year and will go to work tomorrow talking about me and my stories.

These are the people who will become legitimate fans of my work.

Tomorrow I’ll offer some tips that will help even the shiest and most inexperienced author deliver a winning book talk at his or her next event.

What I never told you about marriage

The Forbes piece is “What Your Mother Never Told You About Life After Marriage.”

The thesis of the piece (if you haven’t already guessed) is this:

Marriage is not easy, and you were naïve and foolish to think otherwise. 

The author cites potato chips in the bed, battles over the remote control and snoring as irritants that will eventually make any spouse, but especially a wife, crazy.

I find this position to be trite, whiny, shortsighted, cliché and typically advanced by individuals who have made bad spousal choices and are lacking any reasonable degree of perspective.  

I would like to offer an alternate thesis:

Marriage can be almost perfect if you marry the right person, avoid selfishness and have a sensible perspective on life. 

A friend recently asked me how Elysha and I manage to have a seemingly perfect  marriage.  He pointed out that we almost never argue and continue to live as individuals within the context of a couple. 

“How do you guys do it?” he asked.      

First, I assured him that we are far from perfect. I still haven’t learned to wash the dishes to my wife’s satisfaction and recently left my daughter’s hair full of shampoo.  Last week Clara spent an entire day with her shoes on the wrong feet, courtesy of her father.

I can’t be easy to live with.    

Elysha is not without her flaws as well.  She is incapable of syncing her iPhone until it becomes nearly inoperable and places items on counters and can no longer see them in the same way the T-Rex in Jurassic Park loses track of it prey if the prey isn’t moving.   

We all have room to grow. 

Still, our marriage is pretty fantastic and nearly problem-free.  It’s true that we almost never fight and genuinely love spending time together. 

We’re frightfully and disgustingly blissful on most days. 

So my answer to my friend’s question about how Elysha and I  manage this constant state of bliss was this:

I spend 75% of the time ensure that Elysha is happy and 25% of the time ensuring my own happiness.

Elysha spends 75% of the time ensuring that I am happy and 25% of the time ensuring her own happiness.

As a result, we are both happy, and we are both supremely happy with one another. 

Simple.  Right?

Will this plan work for everyone?

I’m not sure.  There are certainly some problems that our 75/25 split cannot overcome.

I know a couple who negotiates free time from the kids as if they are negotiating nuclear nonproliferation. 

I have a friend who married a shallow, soulless woman who is incapable of experiencing happiness on any level.

I know a man whose in-laws despise his wife.

I know a woman who cannot share information with her husband because he lacks discretion and tact (no, this is not me).  

These are problems that our 75/25 plan might not overcome.

But I also know many couples who are extremely happy in their marriages and do not complain about potato chips in the bed or snoring. 

In fact, I know more happy couples than unhappy couples, regardless of what the Forbes piece would have you believe.

A new writer has taken the stage. Go forth and see what she has to say!

Recently, I have begun using my author appearances as an opportunity to encourage people to write. 

I still talk about my books, tell amusing stories from my life, answer questions from the audience and try to avoid actually reading from my books (the one aspect of author appearances that I do not enjoy). 

But somewhere in there, I take a moment to urge the audience members to write.

Sometimes I cajole.  Sometimes I plead.  Sometimes I admonish.  A couple of times I’ve been downright mean about it.  I never really know what I am going to say at one of these appearances until my mouth gets moving, but I always try to send the message that everyone, regardless of age, experience or ability, should be writing something. 

And I always conclude by asking that if someone begins writing, he or she let me know about it.  While I would love for the people who attend these events to read and love my books (and purchase them in bushels), I would almost prefer that they just go home and start writing.

Apparently they have.  Or at least one person has. 

During last spring’s Books on the Nightstand retreat in Vermont, I decided, on whim, to avoid talking about my books altogether in favor of taking a moment to urge the sizable audience to write.  It may have been the first time I actually made this appeal to an audience, and I was happy that I did. 

My talk can be found here on the Books on the Nightstand website as a part of their weekly podcast.

Earlier this week, a reader named Heather contacted me about an NPR story that had reminded her of Martin, the protagonist in SOMETHING MISSING (I’ll share this interesting insight in a future post).  After exchanging emails, I learned that she had attended the Books on the Nightstand retreat last spring and had taken my appeal to begin writing to heart. 

Beginning on May 27th of this year, she began writing a blog called the One Thousand Words Project, where she attempts to write 1,000 words a day on a topic of her choice.

Her first post explains the genesis of the idea and the rules that she has assigned herself, and I must say that she has not made the process an easy one.

It’s quite impressive. 

I spent some time reading her blog this morning and I couldn’t be more thrilled.  Her writing is clear, insightful, compelling, and most important, she’s writing!  Everyday!

She is writing fiction as well, and from the process that she has described to me through her emails, it sounds as if she is well on her way to beginning her first novel. 

I could not be more thrilled. 

It sounds silly to say that something like this is comparable to publishing my own novels, but it almost is.  While decidedly less profitable than selling my own writing, I can’t tell you how rewarding it is to discover someone writing because of something I said. 

And to be writing so well.   

Perhaps it’s the teacher in me, always looking to encourage people and utilize their talents. 

More likely it’s my terrified-of-death/need-to-leave-my-mark-on-the-world desire being satisfied in a small but extremely meaningful way. 

Or maybe it’s my narcissistic tendencies bubbling to my admittedly shallow surface, hoping that Heather will hit the bestseller list someday and attribute a small margin of her success to me.

Maybe even decide to become my patron and fund my future as a writer.

Whatever the reason, I encourage you to visit Heather’s One Thousand Words Project and see what she has to say. 

Even if I never profit from her efforts, I couldn’t be more happy and excited for her and the work that she is doing.

An evening of challenging questions and fabulous gifts in Lebanon, CT

On Monday night I had the pleasure of speaking as a part of the third annual Connecticut Author’s Trail at the Jonathan Trumbull Library in Lebanon, CT.  An audience of about 50 intrepid Author Trail followers were kind enough to fill the room to listen to me chat about writing and books and life in general.

It was an engaging group of people, filled with lots of interesting questions, and they sent me home with a tub of cookies that I managed to avoid eating by passing out at drive-thru restaurants and Dunkin Donuts over the last two days. 

I made a bunch of fast food employees happy when avoiding most of the unwanted calories. 

A few notes from the night included:

• The audience was kind enough to allow me to defer from reading from any of my books, which I always appreciate. 

I really hate that part of almost any reading.

• My friends, Tony and Erin, were kind enough to show up for the talk.  It is thanks to Tony that I have Patriots season tickets, and he actually delivered them to me that night, making it the best gift I have ever received for a  speaking engagement.

I told the audience that Tony ranks fourth in my life in terms of most important people.  The order is my wife, my daughter, my agent and then him.  And while that may be slightly tongue-in-cheek, it isn’t far from the truth. 

And yes, technically I paid for the tickets, so they weren’t exactly a gift.  But I paid for them way back in March, so they felt free to me when Tony handed them over. 

Probably why the Patriots make me pay so early. 

• I entered the library wearing a baseball hat and shorts and carrying a backpack, and as a result, no fewer than four people commented on how young I looked.  “You’re a little young to be an author,” one woman said skeptically, and two others suggested I get a new publicity photo taken, and fast. 

It just goes to show: Dress like a little boy and you’ll probably scrape away a dozen years or so, at least until you remove your hat. 

• I was asked one of the toughest questions of my authorial career when a librarian who I had met at a previous retreat explained that she is often asked, “Who is this Matthew Dicks?”  Faced with having to explain that I am an author, a teacher, and a DJ (among other things), she has had a difficult time describing me.  So she passed the question onto me.  “Who is Matthew Dicks?” she asked, leaving me to fumble with the question before offering little by way of answer.

But at every author appearance, I always recommend half a dozen other books, and on Monday I recommended SIX WORD MEMOIRS, and so she suggested I provide my own six word memoir in hopes that it might help.

I’ve written almost four dozen six-word memoirs and simply cannot choose with one is the most fitting, but I’ve promised to post my top 10 or so by the end of the week.

So I’m whittling the list down to something manageable.

• A piece about the evening was written up in the Lebanon Reminder by staff writer Melanie Savage, and I liked it quite a bit.  She captured the highlights of the event well.

The piece also included this photo as well, which I liked because it captures the season tickets sitting on the table beside me. 

I love the Patriots. 

        

My talk included wishing for the death of an elderly woman and the apparent arrival of her ghost

A couple of weeks ago I participated in the Books on the Nightstand Retreat, which I’ve written about previously.

Nine authors came together with about one hundred readers to talk about books. 

On Saturday morning I conducted a one-hour session on the decisions that authors must make in the process of publishing a book (ironic since I had been forced to decide upon two offers for my next book as we drove to Vermont), and then later in the evening all nine authors came together to speak to an audience of well over one hundred people on a topic of our choice.

The organizers of the event, the illustrious Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness, recorded these 10-15 minute talks and have been releasing them as part of their Books on the Nightstand weekly podcast.

This week’s podcast includes my talk.

I have yet to listen to the recording. 

My original plan that evening was to speak to the group about my books, read a short passage from UNEXEPECTEDLY, MILO, and tell an amusing story from earlier in the day.  But I changed my mind as I rose from my chair and approached the podium and instead spoke about the writing and the need for more people to write in today’s world. 

Since it was fairly unprepared, I am afraid to listen to the results.  Every unrehearsed “um” or “ah” will be like a thousand tiny cuts into my soul.

I am a bit of a perfectionist, despite the absolute lack of perfection in almost everything I do.  I live a life of perpetual dissatisfaction, but I don’t typically have to re-live my failures.

So I may avoid listening to this week’s podcast altogether. 

Still, I think the talk went well despite my unprepared state, my wish for an elderly woman’s death, and the apparent arrival of her spirit mid-talk.  If you are interested, you can listen to the podcast on the Books on the Nightstand website or download it from iTunes and perhaps become a regular listener.  And I did listen to the other author featured in the podcast, Ellen Meeropol, and she is most certainly worth a listen. 

Defending my biography

During a recent book event in Vermont, two different people assigned to introduce me jocularly questioned the various biography pages that I have scattered throughout the Internet. 

Specifically, a few things came into question, so I thought I’d clear them up here and now.

First, my official bio was written by a friend (and theoretical biophysicist) who entered my bio writing contest last year and won.  The seemingly rambling but perfectly grammatical sentence is a nod toward author Jose Saramago, whose style is something that I have criticized often and who is mentioned in the bio: 

Matthew Dicks, who is not one for long, crafted sentences, preferring the stylings of Vonnegut over those of Saramago, is an author whose works, to date, include the novels Something Missing and Unexpectedly Milo; a successful blog and a number of Op Ed pieces, all of which, at some level or another, tend to examine the outcomes of the quirky and/or rebellious individual when forced up against staid society; however, to say that he is an author is an understatement (or possibly an overstatement, since he devised a contest to compose this author bio and then chose the ramblings of a theoretical biophysicist as the winning entry), for this husband and father from Newington, CT, who has faced a number of near-death experiences, lived in his car, and been tried for a crime that he did not commit, is also an acclaimed elementary teacher who has received the Teacher of the Year Award, is the co-owner of a DJ business, and still wishes that he could beat some of his friends at golf. 

A year later, I still like this biography a lot.

As for the specifics from other biographies that were called into question this weekend:

Yes, I died twice before the age of eighteen and was revived by paramedics both times.  Posts describing these incidents can be found here and here.

Yes, I was a pole vaulter, and a damn good one, too, until the aforementioned car accident/near-death experience caused me to miss my senior season.  A post describing my experience as a pole vaulter can be found here.

And yes, I was a bassoonist, as well as a flutist and a drummer. 

I began my musical career as a flutist in third grade when my mother forced the instrument on me, declaring it quiet enough for her to accept.  A week later I discovered that I was one of only two male flutists in the entire town, and the other was a boy three years older than me named Kevin who rode my school bus and was the biggest nerd I had ever seen.

While I enjoyed the flute, the act of playing it was socially devastating.

When I arrived at our junior-senior high school in seventh grade, I was asked to join the marching band as a drummer.  Lacking a football team, my school’s marching band became the centerpiece of my high school’s competitive endeavors, and our marching band was considered one of the best in the country.

In need of bodies who could keep time in order to fill out the bass drum line, the music director saw an average flutist, an athlete who could carry a bass drum for hours without tiring, and a young man who despised the stigma of his instrument.  Summing up my desires well, he asked if I would like to switch to drum line during the marching band season.

Needless to say I jumped at the chance. 

In my six years in the marching band, we won the Massachusetts championship four times, the New England championship three times, and I had the opportunity to march in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Rose Bowl parade.

Some of the best times of my life. 

In the off-season, however, there was no need for two dozen drummers in the Wind Ensemble, so for the first three off-seasons, I was forced to return to the flute until the day that my school purchased its first bassoon and was in need of a bassoon player.

Once again seeing a middling flute player who was not enjoying his instrument, the band director asked if I would like to become the school’s first bassoonist, and once again, I jumped at the chance.

I became the school’s first bassoonist, and I played it until I graduated from high school.

Two near death experiences before the age of eighteen, a career as a pole vaulter, and a bassoon player.

All true.

Top 10 ideas about books

After spending the weekend with one hundred readers and eight other authors at the Books on the Nightstand Retreat, here is a rundown of the thoughts and ideas that have emerged from the experience:

________________________________________ 

1.  Family members who do not read the book that another family member has written are surprisingly pervasive and the basest of all human beings. 

2.  When someone tells you that they don’t like fiction, remind them that most of what they watch every night on the idiot box is fiction.

3.  The spiteful wish for an elderly woman’s death is probably not the best thing to include in a talk meant to inspire people. 

4.  When possible, avoid eye contact with your wife while delivering a book talk. While your audience may be willing to disguise their disappointment and horror with benign smiles and polite nods, your wife is not.

5.  A book talk places the author in the position of salesperson.  He can sell the product or sell himself.  I believe the latter to be always preferable.

6.  The willingness of an author to overshare is excellent for his readers but not always great for his marriage.

7.  The ability to form a tightly-knit community of like-minded people and bring them together from the corners of the globe for a weekend of laughter and learning is not done through a blog or a podcast but through the unselfish willingness of two extraordinary people to share themselves with the world.  Admiration is not the word to be used when describing one’s feelings about these people.  It is nothing short of reverence.    

8.  A excellent book club choice is likely to be one that at least half your book club despises with a vengeance.

9.  The authenticity of an inexperienced speaker will almost always overshadow the poise and polish of an experienced one. 

10.  When a group of nearly one hundred people dub your wife Saint Elysha, you probably should send flowers soon.

Know thyself, or just read what festival organizers have to say about you instead

My appearance at the upcoming Connecticut Book Festival has been finalized for those interested in attending.  I will be speaking on Sunday from 10:00-11:00 AM at the University of Connecticut Greater Hartford Campus. 

I’ll then be signing books from 11:00 AM -12:00 PM.

More details to follow, including the schedules for the other authors appearing. 

In examining the The Connecticut Book Festival’s author website this evening, I notice that it describes me as:

“A writer and teacher who tends to deal with the quirky and/or rebellious individual, forced up against staid society.”

It’s so interesting (and enlightening) to hear someone else’s interpretation of my work.  While this description may not fit my upcoming book, it certainly applies to my first two books, as well as my currently unpublished novel (CHICKEN SHACK). 

And yet, had you asked me to describe some of the common themes throughout my books, I’m not sure if I would have said anything like this.

And yet if I were to ask my friends to describe some of the ideas that are important to me, the rejection of formality, convention and meaningless tradition would probably top the list.

The mind works in mysterious ways indeed.