Oh the hectic life of a famous author!

Right. I wish I had one.

Or maybe I do. Let’s see, I’ve got four book signings coming up, and now an interview on local TV. One of the book signings is in New Orleans at the AARP convention. I paid iUniverse beaucoup bucks to arrange that for me, and I still have to get there and stay there overnight on my own nickel. Seems unfair. Why can’t I have a publisher like JB Fletcher on Murder She Wrote that pays for everything and wines and dines her besides?

Maybe in today’s economy they don’t exist anymore. Hence the rise of indie publishing.

Since my publisher won’t even assign me a publicist until I finish paying them for my publicity package, I’ve had to arrange all my events myself. Maybe by the time they get around to publicizing me, there won’t be anything left for them to do.

No, that’s unfair. Last time my publicist got me interviews in newspapers and radio stations all over the country. No TV, however, except for my local station. But I did that myself this time, perhaps because they know me now.

Last time they interviewed me I grossed them and my TV viewers out by mentioning a big juicy colon; I wonder hoiw much they talked about that after the show was over! Did it really make anybody lose their breakfast? Did they get letters? Or threatening e-mails?

I remember once years ago that Tom Brokaw did a segment from Vietnam where he showed and described some rather unsavory local dietary practices. I think it was the drinking of snake blood that created a huge backlash from viewers who had actually lost their breakfasts at the very thought.

Now … I wonder what gross thing I can mention this time. Hmmm.

I hate a dull interview, don’t you?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s