Thanks

There were posters of The Given Self dotted around Barnes & Noble Thursday night

The other day my son came by to drop something off and then called me to ask where I was. I said, “I was right here – in my room.”

“Didn’t you hear the dog bark?” he asked.

“The dog,” I said, “barks a lot.”

Writing is a medium that lets you begin to ignore the dog barking.

Thursday, Donny drove me to a bookstore, dropped me off at the door, and went and parked the car. At the information desk, I said, “I’m here for a book signing.”

“Are you the author?”

I said, “Yes.”

Writing is a medium that lets you be an author and, if you’re really lucky, lets you feel like one once every ten years or so.

I felt like one Thursday night. Friends came out in frigid weather, the community relations manager had me all set up, offered pens and water, introduced me in a very fine way, and brought out extra chairs as people arrived. One daughter brought a vase of flowers that matched the book cover. The other brought Henry. My son, who was in the Navy the last time I had a launch, strolled in. A teenager told me I was awesome. There were pictures and hugs and tears.

Having my book launched did what I felt it would do. I told those in attendance, “A book is like a journey. When it’s done, you feel like you’ve been away a long time, and like you’re coming back from a far off land. Tonight, you have met me at the terminal.”

Thanks to everyone who was there, and to all of you who have shared this part of the journey with me.