The first question I asked was: Is this going to be conducted like "American Idol"? I said that if it was, then I wasn't going.
The person to whom I was directing the question--by e-mail--was the publicist for A Little Bit Ruined. Remember that book? The one that launched a little over a month ago and gave me such a final case of miseries that I swore off writing? As soon as I did my last big local reading I went deep into Elmo and Zoe and tried not to look back, finding the culture of eleven-month-olds all I needed. And then...
I heard I'd been accepted to pitch this book to the Jewish Book Network before Book Expo in New York at the end of the month. Never mind that there is zero Jewish content in it. Never mind that, aside from my first novel and my short story in New Orleans Noir, I don't ever even skirt Jewish topics. I'm a Jew, J-O-O as Eric Cartman says. And for that alone (unless I have something else going for me) I seem to have cleared the first hurdle among Jewish cultural programmers around the country: I'm among only 40 authors who get to pitch in New York.
My publicist didn't answer back about the "American Idol" question. So I started losing any ego involvement in the selection process. They don't pick me? It's because my novel's about a crazy woman in a Catholic city. Nothing personal. I get to go to New York. Whee! I'll book my flight.
Then Darcy the publicist called. Yes, we'll be winnowed down to a "chosen" few. Too late. I've made my reservation! So now I'm picking out what I'll wear, when I'll get my hair cut. I don't have the self-esteem of a Sanjaya. I also don't have the years ahead of me to recover and find new identities. Why am I doing this?
I have a bunch of friends who have been invited to pitch too. They say it is like progressive dating--you know, you get five minutes to decide if you want a real date before moving on to the next candidate. They've been talking strategy, etc. It all sounds crazy to me.
I, on the other hand, get to sign galleys on the BEA floor, for which my publisher is flying me up--on luxurious Air Tran--and getting me there just in time to do my thing, then sending me straight back to the airport. Like they think I might get in trouble if I have any free time in New York.
Posted by: Ken Foster | May 07, 2007 at 12:05 PM
American Idol? Sounds more like MI-6. Or the Men in Black. You'd probably look good in a bun and black suit fighting crime with Will Smith. At least that way whenever readings go awry you can use a little memory eraser and forget it ever happened.
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Posted by: Mark Vane | June 11, 2007 at 12:23 AM