This past Saturday I had my very first reading for my book, "The Lyncher in Me" at Elliott Bay Book Company in Pioneer Square. I used to spend entire afternoons browsing the shelves of Elliott Bay, back in the days when I lived in the city. Even before that time, I would trek from the suburbs, downtown to spend the day shopping and sightseeing and would inevitably end up there. What a wonderful bookstore. Never in all my life would I ever have imagined that I'd be there talking about a book of my own.
There was a great turnout, helped in part by a terrific article in the Seattle Times the day before, I'm sure. For the most part, though, I benefitted from a great many friends (and family) who gave me their time and attention. Incredible. It didn't really hit me until afterward just how cool that was, that people would give up their Saturday night to come and hear me read from a book that I sometimes feel they've heard about ad nauseum for so long. True friends.
A moment of potential embarassment for my mother--when I was reading a passage and had forgotten a very sensitive section about her (a funny one, I think) that I stopped me so quickly when I got to it you could practically hear tire screechings. I juggled through it, everyone got a big laugh (sympathetic, I think) and she managed to see the humor in it, too, however mortified she was.
I got wind of an LA Times review that is supposedly coming out this week. My stomach is in knots again. The Star Tribune of Minneapolis gave a very complimentary review in advance of my tour and, again, I was so humbled to read what a stranger thought of the book and, I guess, my life.
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