There’s a former Sports Illustrated colleague named Leigh Montville, who has written some of the best sports books out there. One day, when we were chatting, he summed up a author’s life during the promotional period thusly: “It’s like you live in a cave for two years, you emerge for two weeks of light, then you go back in the cave.”
I am in the light, squinting. “Gunslinger” officially makes its debut Tuesday, but with online ordering and such it’s been a hectic past two weeks. If you’re lucky, you do a gazillion radio interviews, TV interviews, podcasts, blogs, etc … etc. Everything. Anything. You tell the same stories over and over. To St. Louis. To Houston. To Detroit. You’re interviewed by people who read the book and loved it, and by people who think your name is Jim Pearlstein. I need to go to bed, because it’s 1:37 am, but I’m up scratching, clawing, digging, searching. All the stuff you do with a new release.
But, to be clear, I’m not complaining. I’ve been fortunate: My career as an author has been good enough that I have a career as an author. For many, writing must remain a side passion; a thing to do when time permits between kids, meals, sleep and nine hours per day at the CPA firm. This is my profession, and it kicks ass. And, truly, I love the interviews. The questions. The inquisitions. All this stuff has been bottled up, and now I can release.
But I’m exhausted.