Here comes the Big Damned Psych-Up
So here we go: the second JP Kinkaid mystery, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, hits the street on 15 September. That means it's time to mentally get into a full lotus tuck, tell the universe and my Inner PR Wonkesse "Namaste", and get my head into the space for pushing the book.
Of course, the Zen thing might not be the ideal road this time. The events I'm doing are on a rather different level than straight in-store signings:
Three radio spots (including the two excellent hours I just did for Lilycat at FCC Free Radio, and David Gans' nationally syndicated "Dead to the World" on 16 September, the night after the official pub date).
The amazing benefit fundraiser at San Francisco's Boom Boom Room, Roy Rogers playing and Jim Marshall - yes, that Jim Marshall, the man called the Godfather of Rock Photography and one of the best on his side of the aperature that ever picked up a camera - signing with me, for MSFriends/Rock for MS.
The fundraiser for the San Rafael Library: three of us who write music-based mysteries (Jon Pederson, Danny Carnahan and myself), with live music and special guests and in connection with the Marin Rocks exhibit, on 1 October, at the San Rafael City Council chambers.
The Marin County Writers centennial party at Book Passage in Corte Madera on 18 October - I'll be covering "The Cover of Rolling Stone" with my adored Kathi Kamen Goldmark's band, Los Train Wreck, and there are something like 18 writers attending. That one's $45, but you get a full lunch and your choice of book. Well worth it, since the average hardback these days is $25 plus tax.
The "Wine, Women and Song" event I'm doing at Clayton Books on Sunday, 25 October, with Laura Anne Gilman. She's providing the wine aspect (with the first book in her new series, which is getting starred reviews and raves everywhere), I'm providing the song, and we're both women. Then, of course, there's Word Fantasy in San Jose over Halloween weekend...
So maybe that "namaste" thing should be more on the Tarantino end of the scale: Namaste, motherfucker, a kind of literary version of what Ted Williams used to do before going out and creaming the baseball: "I'm TED FUCKING WILLIAMS and I am the GREATEST BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!" This was just during batting practice, but there you go: it worked for him.
I think I'll try the Zen first. If that doesn't get me cooking, I'll do Tarantino. And if both fail me, I'm pretty damned sure the Nickelback show at Shoreline next Tuesday will kickstart me, good and hard.
Namaste, yo.
Of course, the Zen thing might not be the ideal road this time. The events I'm doing are on a rather different level than straight in-store signings:
Three radio spots (including the two excellent hours I just did for Lilycat at FCC Free Radio, and David Gans' nationally syndicated "Dead to the World" on 16 September, the night after the official pub date).
The amazing benefit fundraiser at San Francisco's Boom Boom Room, Roy Rogers playing and Jim Marshall - yes, that Jim Marshall, the man called the Godfather of Rock Photography and one of the best on his side of the aperature that ever picked up a camera - signing with me, for MSFriends/Rock for MS.
The fundraiser for the San Rafael Library: three of us who write music-based mysteries (Jon Pederson, Danny Carnahan and myself), with live music and special guests and in connection with the Marin Rocks exhibit, on 1 October, at the San Rafael City Council chambers.
The Marin County Writers centennial party at Book Passage in Corte Madera on 18 October - I'll be covering "The Cover of Rolling Stone" with my adored Kathi Kamen Goldmark's band, Los Train Wreck, and there are something like 18 writers attending. That one's $45, but you get a full lunch and your choice of book. Well worth it, since the average hardback these days is $25 plus tax.
The "Wine, Women and Song" event I'm doing at Clayton Books on Sunday, 25 October, with Laura Anne Gilman. She's providing the wine aspect (with the first book in her new series, which is getting starred reviews and raves everywhere), I'm providing the song, and we're both women. Then, of course, there's Word Fantasy in San Jose over Halloween weekend...
So maybe that "namaste" thing should be more on the Tarantino end of the scale: Namaste, motherfucker, a kind of literary version of what Ted Williams used to do before going out and creaming the baseball: "I'm TED FUCKING WILLIAMS and I am the GREATEST BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!" This was just during batting practice, but there you go: it worked for him.
I think I'll try the Zen first. If that doesn't get me cooking, I'll do Tarantino. And if both fail me, I'm pretty damned sure the Nickelback show at Shoreline next Tuesday will kickstart me, good and hard.
Namaste, yo.
posted by DebGrabien at
8:23 PM
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