Before my book even came out, I begged the salespeople at the publishing house to try and get it into Urban Outfitters.
"My dream," as I called it.
No, I do not really buy my clothes there (except for those tank tops they have every year that I can't live without), but the young people do. The Young People (TM) who have the disposable cash and lots of occasions to buy presents and use their brand new credit cards that they can't afford. They are perfect and I love them and I love their money too. Sweet, sweet money. However, I was told last year by my editor that UO just wasn't interested in my book because it was "too Jewish" or something like that. Imagine, a Jewish holiday book being too Jewish? In New York City. That's crazy talk.
So I stewed and had the sour grapes and cursed the whole publishing business -- (which really does suck by the way) -- and swore that I'd go back to self-publishing (you know, between all the baby rearing and laundry). That hasn't quite happened, although I have written some short stories for other folks and do dream about doing a book with my good friend, Jenny. It's been hard because my book, although beautifully designed and wittily written, has kinda gone nowhere. No one really worked it, including me because I was too pregnant and cranky at the time to hustle up readings or offer Whatever to Whomever to get the good reviews. Also, distribution it seems, is a bitch. It's great to have your book in B&N, but if they only buy 5 copies and they all sell out, guess what? They don't automatically request more. People have to actually go in and ask for them and fill out forms leaving phone numbers and such. Who wants to do that when you can buy it on amazon at a discount? Not dissing amazon at all, but man, seeing your book in a real live store is a real kick. Yes, I am retarted (as our boy sitter says). Retarted.
But then yesterday, Jenny called. "Guess what I'm looking at?", she said in the nasal New York voices we talk to each other in, as if our names might be Mavis or Fern or Flo or Gladys. I was about to guess things like cameltoe, Lindsay Lohan or an old boyfriend of mine urinating on the sidewalk right in front of her.
"I'm at the UO on 14th Street and I'm looking at your book on prominent display."
A year ago this would have made me jump for joy, but I was watching Mamie at the time attempt to eat a lego the size of my head.
"Wow," I said unenthusiastically. I didn't mean to be so blase but the TV was turned to the kids video channel and the episode with the grumpy squirrel was on. My favorite!
As Jenny went on saying how this was a great thing, I realized she was right. I'm out there. (No cracks, please). OUT THERE for the Young People. And that ain't retarted.
"My dream," as I called it.
No, I do not really buy my clothes there (except for those tank tops they have every year that I can't live without), but the young people do. The Young People (TM) who have the disposable cash and lots of occasions to buy presents and use their brand new credit cards that they can't afford. They are perfect and I love them and I love their money too. Sweet, sweet money. However, I was told last year by my editor that UO just wasn't interested in my book because it was "too Jewish" or something like that. Imagine, a Jewish holiday book being too Jewish? In New York City. That's crazy talk.
So I stewed and had the sour grapes and cursed the whole publishing business -- (which really does suck by the way) -- and swore that I'd go back to self-publishing (you know, between all the baby rearing and laundry). That hasn't quite happened, although I have written some short stories for other folks and do dream about doing a book with my good friend, Jenny. It's been hard because my book, although beautifully designed and wittily written, has kinda gone nowhere. No one really worked it, including me because I was too pregnant and cranky at the time to hustle up readings or offer Whatever to Whomever to get the good reviews. Also, distribution it seems, is a bitch. It's great to have your book in B&N, but if they only buy 5 copies and they all sell out, guess what? They don't automatically request more. People have to actually go in and ask for them and fill out forms leaving phone numbers and such. Who wants to do that when you can buy it on amazon at a discount? Not dissing amazon at all, but man, seeing your book in a real live store is a real kick. Yes, I am retarted (as our boy sitter says). Retarted.
But then yesterday, Jenny called. "Guess what I'm looking at?", she said in the nasal New York voices we talk to each other in, as if our names might be Mavis or Fern or Flo or Gladys. I was about to guess things like cameltoe, Lindsay Lohan or an old boyfriend of mine urinating on the sidewalk right in front of her.
"I'm at the UO on 14th Street and I'm looking at your book on prominent display."
A year ago this would have made me jump for joy, but I was watching Mamie at the time attempt to eat a lego the size of my head.
"Wow," I said unenthusiastically. I didn't mean to be so blase but the TV was turned to the kids video channel and the episode with the grumpy squirrel was on. My favorite!
As Jenny went on saying how this was a great thing, I realized she was right. I'm out there. (No cracks, please). OUT THERE for the Young People. And that ain't retarted.