Oh, What a Night
Monday, September 19, 2005 at 08:50AM The book launch party for Lost in the Ivy at The Firehouse Grill in Evanston Saturday evening was nothing short of a blazing success.
We sold an amazing 34 books and, since many of the guests came with copies in hand, I probably signed twice that many. My writing hand is still achy, but it's a good achy.
The only disappointment on my end: missing the first two hours of the party. Much of that time I sat alone at a table with piles of books, looking every bit the part of reclusive author.
When I finally was able to break away the night was nearly over. As best I could, I tried to catch up, but I felt like I'd arrived late for my very own party. You want to spend time with everyone but there is so little of it left that you find yourself bouncing around from guest to guest like a pinball.
Disappointment is not the right word, though. How could I be disappointed at all when such an incredible number of people came out to show their support for me. Truly I am overwhelmed. There are no words that I know of to express how I felt seeing all those people, many of whom traveled many miles (as far away as Columbus, Ohio, and Detroit) or juggled challenging childcare or work schedules, just so they could be there.
All I can say is thank you. It was truly one of the most memorable nights of my life.
Know, however, that even if I missed much of the evening, the party's just getting started. I hit the road Saturday in what promises to be an incredible two-month journey. Over that time I'll be taking my book-signing tour to, in order of appearance: Rockford, IL; Joliet, IL; Winnetka, IL; Milwaukee, WI; Waynesboro,VA; Washington, D.C.; Glen Ellyn, IL; and Chicago, IL.
Many, many thanks to those who came out Saturday. Hopefully I'll see you on the road.
I know there are some that wanted to be there but were unable to make it for various reasons. For them here is a taste of the night, an excerpt of the speech I gave that evening:
In my reporting days I spent a lot of time on the courthouse beat. Mobsters, molesters and murderers became a big part of my life. Oftentimes I wondered what it would be like to be in their shoes.
And that’s where the idea for Charley Hubbs, the protagonist in my book, came from. A reporter who has become the story.
As a reporter, you have trusted sources. They’re the people you always go to when you need guidance and need to be steered in the right direction.
I adopted that approach in writing my manuscript and repeatedly sought out the advice of two trusted friends, one an attorney, Pat Nagle, and the other a doctor, Steve Michel. Together, they gave me what I needed to get to the point where I could type “The End” on my manuscript.
But writing “The End,” I learned, is far from the end. I still needed an editor before I could even think of shopping my manuscript.
Knowing that professional book editing services do not come cheaply, I turned to the same person I always turned to when I was in college and needed money: Mom.
Admittedly, this was a risky endeavor. There were things that I had written that could be deemed to be autobiographical. The kinds of things that your Mom just isn’t supposed to know about you.
I can’t tell you how weird it is to have your mother criticize how you write a sex scene. Not since I was a teenager and she had left on my bed a book about the birds and the bees had I felt so internally troubled.
She had told me that my sex scene wasn’t, well, sexy enough. I needed to sex it up, she said.
This was a little like being in the Olympics and having your homeland judge give your performance a score of 1 out of 10. Or having your gymnastics coach tell you, “Work on that mount, son.”
When I went back and reread what I’d written, I realized that my Mom was right. My sex scene was about as stimulating as watching C-Span. So I went back and rewrote it. And my sex scene is better for it.
The point is, this book has my name on the cover but it could never have reached this stage if it had not been for the support and encouragement that I got from many along the way.
As most of you know, I am, by nature, painfully shy. If you’ve heard me talk in public before, you know that my voice gets shaky and cracks at times and the words come out a little clumsy. If you’ve never heard it before, there’s now a permanent record of it on the Internet. All you have to do is go to globaltalkradio.com and listen to a recorded interview with me.
My sister, who has known me longer than anyone here, with the exception of my mother, upon reading my book wondered where all those words came from. In 41 years, she’d never heard me speak them
I mention all of this as an explanation of sorts. I stand before you today reading my own words because I know that if I tried to speak them without having written them down first it would be an unpleasant experience for all of you.
My lovely wife and I decided to have this party as not just a means to selling books. We will of course not discourage you from buying books. And I’m sure my wife has an open cash bag, ready to collect your money.
But the true reason for this party is to thank all of you for the support you’ve given me in my writing endeavors. This has been a ride like none I’ve taken before, but I would never have been able to take it if it were not for all of you.
The "Lost" Cake
