Book Cake: a photoplay

A couple weeks in the life of the lovely surprise book cake Stephen got me for the pre-event party my good friend Liz Scott threw before my book launch at the beginning of this month. 

The cake was huge. There was no way it was going to get close to being completely eaten during that party. In the whirlwind of all of us heading over to Powell's for the event, the leftover cake got left, in full, to Stephen and me. I shouldn't have continued eating as much of that cake as I did in the days that followed, but it felt too special. 

I don't remember what piece I got at the party.

This is the piece I had at the end of the night to celebrate the book launch.

Eating the moon.

Remnants. If you look close, you'll see the sign of the beast in there. Yipe.

A last little piece before I bit the bullet (pun intended) and put the last of it out for the squirrels to pick over.

a moment in the life of my book: radio

I come down the stairs, teacup in hand, step into the kitchen. It’s a work day and I have a meeting in five minutes, zoom style. Time to top off my cold tea and warm it up.

I can hear my own voice coming from around the corner where Stephen’s sitting in his little office. It’s me on the radio. KBOO’s program Jonesy, which I recorded last Friday, a really fun conversation with host Ken Jones about my book and other books and film noir and old-time radio, a lot of talk about old-time radio, a conversation about radio coming over the radio, or at least streaming live out of Stephen’s computer.

I put my teacup in the microwave. Start it humming.

“Hey!” Stephen’s voice. “What are you doing down here?” And not off somewhere listening to myself, he means.

“I’m warming my tea before a meeting,” I call.

There's a pause and then he calls back, “I’m not listening to you because I’m listening to you.”

Fair enough. I pull my tea from the microwave and start back upstairs.

a moment in the life of my book: dream launch

In my dream, it's book launch night and I've just finished up with my event at Powell's. I am so happy. Everything went well. I read well. I answered questions well. I was surrounded by friends and loved ones.

Oh, but wait! We forgot all about the part where I sign books! 

I look around, and oh no, the crowd is leaving. The room already mostly empty. But we need to sign books! Powell's brought in all these books and they need to sell them!

Quick, I sit down behind a little table. Someone brings over the book cart and sets it up to the front and to the right of the table. The people who remain are trickling around the table, past the cart, not grabbing books, heading for the stairs to leave.

I lean forward over the table. Look at the front of the book cart. It's full of stuffed animals.

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(Book launch is tonight! I'll try to remember to sign books. Powell's downtown, October 7, 7 PM. More information is here.)

a moment in the life of my book: advice

We've been pre-celebrating a little. Thai food and an old film noir. But mostly, tonight, my brain has been wound up tight with where am I going to stumble over my words while reading Tuesday night and what question is someone going to ask that I won't know the answer to and what very good friend am I going to blank on a name for as they hand me their book to sign.

We walk into the kitchen carrying our empty plates. 

"Tell me again," I say, "what you said before?"

"What before?" Stephen asks.

"To make me feel better."

I've forgotten the words he used. By Tuesday night, I will have lost all the words that exist in my brain.

He cracks a smile. "There's nothing you can do to make it bad."

Like a little magic incantation.  

"There's nothing I can do to make it bad," I say. "OK."

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(If you want to see me do nothing to make it bad, join me for my book launch of Who Killed One the Gun? at Powell's City of Books, October 7, at 7 PM. More information is here.)