It's 6:28 am on Tuesday, August 14, 2018, and I'm sitting in a fairly nice hotel in Newark, Delaware. I spent the entire day yesterday in Boston and Philadelphia. I bought two bottles of water from the concierge when I got here, showed myself to my room, and watched ESPN before bed. News about baseball and swollen multi-million dollar contracts lowering me into slumber while the sleep timer ticked away on the tube.
Now I've taken two sips of coffee from the ancient Cuisinart inside my room as I prepare for an important day.
I've got work to do for my actual job today. That's why I'm here in Delaware, after all. But today also marks the commencement of a process that's been ongoing for over a year. Today is the day my novel, Orphan Sun, goes live on Amazon. It will be this evening at some point. I'll drop a note on social media about it. A sprinkle on Facebook, a dollop on Instagram.
The novel is the closest thing I have to a kid. At least it feels that way. It's been a long process. Some days I'd write for 12 to 13 hours virtually non-stop, less the few minutes I allowed myself to pee here and there. There were also a couple of weeks when I couldn't bear to look at the manuscript; upset and tired with it. But, hey, that's my kid, you know? I can't just abandon it (despite the now ironic title).
It's been blissful and miserable, exhilarating and boring, too. The result, I hope, is something with depth. A friend of mine told me something just after finishing her draft copy of the manuscript. She said, "Whatever people think of it, whether they think it's great or it sucks, please know that it is IMPORTANT that you wrote it." I like that idea, that it's important. Look, lots of people write books and lots of people don't. Even more people probably would like to, but never get around to it. This is my second. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I'm important. I'm not.
Maybe you'll think the book is. After all, that's all I want for my kid: to be liked, to be accepted. My mother once told me that one of the most heartbreaking things was to see your child rejected. Back then, I knew that meant she loved me (of course she does), but now the message resonates with me a bit deeper. I want my book to do well, for you to feel that your time spent reading was well-invested. If I can entertain you for a few days, that would be a dream come true.
The book is priced at $18.99 on Amazon. You might be wondering why that price is what it is, though maybe you don't care at all. I'll be perfectly transparent with you. Amazon requires that I charge a particular minimum for the novel. This is just about the lowest I can charge, without having each sale be a complete wash. I'll make just over 5 bucks a book.
That's 5 little dollars for over a year of work: teaching it to speak, guiding it's hands as it learned to walk by itself. Now the novel is headed off to school. It'll be judged there, like we all are. Maybe it'll be the most popular, but that isn't my hope. I just want for it to do well.
And, hey, if you see my kid, tell him I'm proud of him.
Talk soon.
Barry