So I wrote this book (Ashes to Ashes, Oranges to Oranges), published it, and I’ve been giving it away to just about everyone I know. I gave it to my family, my friends, and everyone I work with. I also did this thing where I said if you liked my Facebook author page by a certain date, I’d send you a free copy, and that added even more people to my ever-growing rubber band ball of readers. A week ago Saturday we sent copies to the people on the book’s acknowledgements page, and yesterday we sent them out to (almost) everyone else. I’m expecting this coming week to be pretty exciting, what with 50 people or so (most of whom I haven’t talked to in person in years) getting my book in their mailboxes and saying “Hey, Eric Henderson wrote a book, and here it is in my hands right now.” That part I feel excellent about.
The next step is that everyone will (hopefully) open the books and start reading “Make a New World Real,” a trippy little story about a dancer and her Svengali-like mentor cracking the trans-dimensional barrier. And then… what? The UNKNOWN. Which is what makes this week and next week so exciting, because until something actually does happen, just about anything can. Reality is usually, you know, pretty good, but my fantasy about how it’s all going to go down right now is magnificent! Hint – it involves me being driven all over the country in a luxury rickshaw.
So if that doesn’t happen, if in two or three weeks the hoopla around my book dies down and I’m reduced back down from the superhuman pillar of strength known as Authorman to regular old boring Eric, that dude in Connecticut, what then?
I’ve got an insurance policy.
Really? Yup, and it’s something I should have been up to all along, but even though I haven’t, I’ve got at least this week as a head start. I’ve got at least this week before I’ll have to come down out of the clouds and realize that not everyone who reads Ashes to Ashes, Oranges to Oranges will love it enough to recommend it to every person of influence they know, who will in turn recommend it to everyone of influence they know and so on, creating a chain reaction which will lead to enough money for me to cover next month’s phone bill. I’m not saying that won’t happen, it probably will. But just in case, here’s my insurance policy against disappointment: I’m starting work on my new book tomorrow. It’s a novel, or a novella, depending on how long it turns out to be. I know what the story is, know who the characters are, and consider it a weird and worthy follow up to Ashes to Ashes, Oranges to Oranges. I can’t share even the working title at this point, ‘cuz it’s super hush-hush top secret stuff (and anyway, unless I’ve got a bunch of time to think about what to say, I’m much better at writing projects than talking about them, at least in the sense that I’m talking-writing now, and not writing-writing, and if you think that makes sense, then you’re right, but please explain it back to me because I’m not really sure I get it).
I’m expecting this week to be a lot of fun – I’ll definitely be following up with all of my people as they get their copies, and thrilling to their unique adventures with Ashes to Ashes, Oranges to Oranges, but just in case the release doesn’t turn out to be all I’ve hoped it will, I’m sending a big chunk of my brain on ahead to the nearly-abandoned shopping mall in Florida where the new story will begin. To paraphrase Johnny Depp as Ed Wood: “Really? Worst book you’ve ever read? Well, my next one will be better!”