Sadly and unsurprisingly—and not a little bit exhilaratingly—I have found myself doing lots of the little (marginally annoying) things authors do when their books are published.
Like what? You ask:
Sadly and unsurprisingly—and not a little bit exhilaratingly—I have found myself doing lots of the little (marginally annoying) things authors do when their books are published.
Like what? You ask.
Like, I tell everyone “My book is out!” even if they didn’t know I was writing one.
I whip out a copy of the book, uninvited and unannounced, if I happen to be carrying it, to show just about anyone I can, from my high school friends to my girlfriend’s doorman. This usually just precedes the “My book is out!” announcement.
I got a cheap and obvious thrill out of seeing Amy’s copy of her book arrive in its Amazon.com box last night. (And no, silly, I didn’t force her to buy one; she decided it would be fun to support me. Even though my free-book box is in her apartment. And it was fun.)
I had my brother ask at the desk at his local Barnes & Noble if they had my book in stock. (They didn’t. Dammit.)
I check the Amazon page for my book several times a day to peek at my Page Rank. (It’s gotten as high as 6,378, which is not too shabby for a tome that isn’t available at retail yet.)
I don’t feel any more important or special than I did six months ago, but if you’re wondering about this whole newly-published-author thing: Hell yeah it’s fun.