The joys of the gimpy wildebeest

Technically I'm involved in three books coming out just about now. So I can see how it feels to have different roles: as the author of a novel released in a new paperback edition (Side Effects), the author of a new novel fresh out in hardback (A Little Bit Ruined), and the contributor to an anthology (New Orleans Noir) that's being published with all writers--I think--waiving their monies to benefit Katrina victims.

And now I know what kind of writer I want to be.

I want to hide in the pack. Maybe I'm not the lame one: so far reviewers have been generous to me. Maybe I'm not going to get any share at grazing time; I'm giving away the money. But I'm not out there alone, completely vulnerable. In all the years when I've been out promoting books, I've never had a moment's fun doing public appearances and interviews. Now I'm simultaneously promoting my own private books and a collective book, and I'm here to tell you that it's a blast being in the crowd.

A few nights ago, five of us--Julie Smith, Jimmy Nolan, Chris Wiltz, Ted O'Brien, and I--gathered at the corner of Bourbon and Orleans to do a photo shoot for the front page of the Times-Picayune "Living" section. No holds barred. I walked right through the French Quarter in a black slinky outfit cut wa-a-ay down, in fuck-me heels, more makeup collectively than I've worn in a lifetime, and an 18-inch knife in a Whole Foods bag. Sunglasses, fedoras, trenchcoats, bandoliers, guns, a police badge, a mink coat that I threw furiously over my shoulder: we festooned ourselves with props and hammed it up on the sidewalk. New Orleans being New Orleans, over the two hours we were there, no one paid any attention. And we had great good fun. Of course, Julie had selected writers whom I adored, none of the people at the wedding two weeks ago who give me nightmares. I was in the pack of like-minded wildebeests.

In changing combinations we'll do appearances in the coming weeks. And in between, I'll do solo appearances to promote A Little Bit Ruined. I'll field all questions. I'll count the houses. I'll watch the cash registers. I'll go home depressed no matter if it's standing room only. I'll lament my write-ups because of course one writer can't get a hilarious front of the "Living" section spread. Never mind that I've had it twice. I have a short memory because I'm miserable alone. I think from now on if I write anything it'll be in the company of others. It's not so hard when I edge myself into the middle and hope somebody else gets picked off by the predators.

Comments

[Stilling]

Enjoyed this blog. Glad you're playing well with others.

[unknown]

So good to know the business of writing can be enjoyed. Go girl!