Scar Boys Firsts

I have to admit that, to this point, I haven’t felt like much of an author. It’s more like I’ve been playing an author in a local theater troupe’s production of “Biff Writes a Book.” Case in point, the galleys’ arrive:

Kristen, my better (smarter, better-looking, generally nicer) half calls me at work:

“A box arrived. It feels like it might have books in it.”

How does a box with books feel different from a box with, say, magazines, or CDs, or I don’t know, diapers. “How can you tell, I ask?”

“Duh, genius. I used to work in a bookstore.” Okay, she probably says “I used to work in a bookstore silly,” but I’ll remember things my way, you remember things your way. “Plus,” she adds, “it’s from a printer.”

After some more back and forth, Kristen and I agree that she’ll bring the box with her when we meet some friends for dinner that night. Our friends, Ron and Julie, have kids the same age as ours (five and two), so dinner is chaotic. (If you have young kids, you’ll understand. If you don’t watch this.)

I’m the last to arrive and everyone is on pins and needles wanting me to open the box.

“Daddy,” my son Charlie says, “your books are in this box!”

“Maybe,” I say, “maybe. Let’s see.”

Len opening box of galleys Len holding up book. Charlie holding up book.

As you can see by the photos, the books were in fact in the box.

And here’s the part where I don’t quite know how to be an author. Our waitress, Shani (Sh-knee), oohs and has when she learns that one of her customers is a soon to be published author.

“Oh my gosh,” says Shani, “I’m definitely going to buy one when the book comes out! I can’t wait!”

I am so humbled and so flattered, that I believe here without any shred of doubt. It never occurs to me that she’s being nice because 1) she’s nice, or 2) she’s working us for a good tip. I’m so overcome with gratitude that I immediately give her one of my twenty galleys. I expect her to walk way happy, but she doesn’t.

My confusion deepens when Kristen asks, “Well?”

“Well,” I answer, turning to Shani “enjoy it.”

“No, you dumb-ass, sign it!” Okay, again, Kristen probably says something like “Aren’t you going to sign it Sweetie?”

Signing for Shani.

So sign it, I do. All in all, it was a pretty amazing night.

And yeah, I had a glimpse of what it feels like to be an author. I like it.

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