Thursday, January 12, 2006

Author Robert Ferrigno sweats out the waiting game...

From Amazon.com.
"Prayers For the Assassin" is about to hit the bookshelves:

Riding the roller coaster
5:31:52 PM PST, January 9, 2006

These are the hardest days for any novelist. The book is written, edited, review copies of the advanced readers edition sent out, and now there is nothing to do but hope the publicity and marketing departments don't go on a mass bender. I imagine them on a tropical island resort at this very moment... they've taken the shlub from accounting who has doctored the books, drained the promotional budget for my book and it's pina coladas and shiatsu massages for everyone!

It's all about the loss of power. While writing a novel, the author is a god, and let’s be honest, what’s the fun of being a god if you can’t call up death and destruction when the mood hits. Characters live and die by my whim. Love blooms and fades at my command. I decide whether the ending is happy or sad. That cough may be a summer cold or something worse. And watch out for the girl with green eyes. It’s nice being a god, but every time I turn in a completed manuscript, I get tossed out of heaven.

I'm reduced to a small, quivering thing. Gollum without the self-confidence. I pray for a great book jacket. I've seen the cover mock-ups from Scribners, but after eight books I've become suspicious. My last publisher changed jackets a month before pub date. A British publisher once stuck a jacket on one of my books that featured an exhausted man crawling up on a beach, his face framed by the V of a woman's bare legs. Hmmm... okay. An Italian jacket of mine showed a blue-toned nude man with his hands cuffed behind his back. No such scene appeared in the book, but I'm sure it was a hit on many S&M bulletin boards.

I pray for a book tour without bomb scares, ripped fuselages or seat mates that argue over the arm rest. This arm-rest battle actually happened last book tour. Two elderly women's desire for space escalating to profanity and threats of throwing their drinks on each other. Medicare clearly doesn't provide enough Valium for senior citizens. I was appalled and amused... and very glad I always chose an aisle seat.

This afternoon my fear turned to joy. My copies of PRAYERS arrived. Same image as is on the Amazon page, but much cooler. The jacket cuts away, revealing an image actually embossed onto the cover boards. There is also a map of the new Islamic republic on the inside front and back covers. Amazing, I want to know who the designer is so I can offer to donate bone marrow if the need ever arises. This is a very expensive cover. Lots of time and money went into this. Double my joy. This means my publisher has placed a very large bet on the success of the book. (go to www.prayersfortheassassin.com for further proof) Wonderful.

A former publisher informed me a week before pub date that there would be no book tour for me. They had just spent 25 million dollars buying Patricia Cornwell and the money had to come from somewhere, don't you know. Oh. Of course.

Having your publisher spend a boatload of money is the closest indicator of love in the wonderful world of books. I am thrilled. I am excited. I am... terrified. After spending all that money, the publisher isn't going to be happy with good reviews and solid sales. They want a HIT. They want a BEST SELLER. My prom date has just spent the price of a Escalade on her dress... I sure better be some fine dancer. I think I'm going to lie down... or better yet, ask the publicity and marketing departments to take me to the island with them. I want a drink with an umbrella, and a long ride on the roller coaster.

Wrap...

No comments: