Tag: authors

Bada Bing, Bada Boom — How to Acknowledge in 3 Easy Steps

Pro Tip: Be sure to thank the “fucking dick and asshole” in your life.

I finished reading the book Slow AF Run Club by Martinus Evans this morning. I enjoyed it and recommend it to anyone who is interested in trying something new. Doesn’t have to be running ~ but I think it should be something intense. But this isn’t a book review. I’m writing because of Evans’ Acknowledgement section.

One of my favorite things to do when I complete any book is read the Acknowledgements. I look to see whose names I recognize. I pay attention to who gets their last name published versus those who are referred to by their first names or nicknames. I compare and contrast the acknowledgements of independent authors versus best selling authors versus famous authors.

It’s fascinating. Some are grateful to dozens of people and specific publishing teams and fill up three pages. Others write a single sentence of gratitude. Most say a cheeky version of “I can’t remember everyone but you know who you are!” Many thank a spouse, their kids or significant other. Ghostwriters and early manuscript readers are usually (intentionally) buried in the acknowledgements, a practice that always amuses me. God frequently gets a shout out, but not as much as editors and agents.

But in the hundreds (if not thousands) of acknowledgements I’ve read over the years, until this morning, I have never seen anyone thank a “fucking dick.”

Evans wrote, “I also want to shout out to the doctor who had the audacity to call me fat, laughed at me, and told me that I was going to die. I still think that you’re a fucking dick and asshole for saying what you said to me…”

Why haven’t I thought about acknowledging the fucking dicks in my life? I know several and I have been pissed at them for years. Decades even. Why haven’t I simply thanked them and used the energy from the doomed relationship to do something good for myself? For my family? For freakin’ society?

It’s not too late…

***

I just spent a few minutes writing my own “acknowledgements.” It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. It also didn’t rile me up. I expected the process to upset me, but I actually found the act of acknowledging simultaneously invigorating and peaceful. I “thanked” more than ten enemies. Similar to Martinus Evans, a few were doctors and nurses and I couldn’t remember their names either.

I’ve read numerous books and articles about forgiveness but the concept has been hard for me to grasp. Until now. Thank the fucker, forget their name, then go do something good. Bada bing, bada boom.

Thanks for reading. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for a slow AF (and barefoot) run! -Connie

Two scenes — an interactive blog!

Today’s prompt: Who is your favorite author and why?

Sometimes actors are asked, “What’s your favorite role?” and they’ll answer: “The role I’m currently playing.” Younger actors might toss in a grand Shakespearean role to prove they have the chops.

It might go something like this:

INTERVIEWER: What’s been your favorite role to perform?

ACTOR: (pretends he’s never heard that question before) Oh, that’s a hard question. (looks lost in thought for a second) If I’m being honest…and I know this will sound cheesy…I’d have to say it’s….it’s…the role I’m currently playing!

INTERVIEWER: Fascinating!

ACTOR: (laughs) Ha ha ha, yes. (lowers voice to whisper) But I absolutely adored the time I played King Lear in the Finger Lakes. Such fond memories.

End of scene

***

BLOGANUARY PROMPT-WRITER: Who’s your favorite author?

BLOGGER: Oh that’s so tough. Let me think. If I’m being honest…and I know this will sound cheesy…I’d have to say the author I’m currently reading! (pauses, lowers voice) But I loved Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Such fond memories.

End of scene

***

In the words of Natalie Portman, “No more questions.”

Thanks for reading. Who is your favorite author?

Connie

What’s in a signature?

Yesterday I went to the library. I picked out two books for myself: The Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead and The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green.

I noticed on the latter’s cover it had a little round “sticker” on it that said “Signed Edition” and, sure enough, when I cracked it open, Green’s autograph was right there. And it was in green!

I’d never run across a signed book in any library! At bookstores, sure, but never a library. I thought it must be a mistake. I accidentally returned my own book to the library once. Maybe someone else had done the same? But then I noticed he left an “explainer” on the purple page opposite his signature.

“I signed with some kind of Sharpie while sitting on the edge of the couch in my basement,” Green wrote. “This sheet of paper was then bound into your copy…”

Oh! So that’s how they do it.

He said he hopes his readers experience the same joy he feels whenever he comes across a signed book.

That’s nice.

I always thought authors signed their fully intact books. I had no idea they could just sign a large stack of pages, similar to how famous actors autograph their headshots. Green’s way is much more efficient than what I had imagined and I must say it’s smart marketing. When I saw “Signed Edition” on the book, at the library, I immediately grabbed the book.

I like Green’s writing but I’m not sure it was joy I felt when I saw his signature. In fact, his autograph and explainer triggered that nagging feeling I get when I’ve been manipulated. Of course, there are worse forms of manipulation than being nerdily coerced into checking out a library book. And I am hopeful that I will love his essays so much that I don’t mind. We shall see.

I do want to say that I know the “moment” Green is wishing for his readers and I’ve had one that I doubt will ever be topped.

Last year, my son Angelo (then 11 years old) had a doctor appointment. On his way out, the nurse said something like, “Help yourself to a book.” She motioned to a cart filled with used books. He chose a copy of Blubber by Judy Blume. He showed me his treasure when he got home and I was delighted to see he chose a Blume. Then I was shocked to see that Blume herself had signed it! I was in disbelief, but I looked up her signature and it is a perfect match.

My son and I read the book together and the tattered copy is prominently placed in our living room. I look at it nearly every day the same way I look at the Omar Odeh and Alice Klock art we have on our walls — with wonder, introspection and a touch of sadness.

I adored Judy Blume’s writing when I was young and all of my kids have read several of her books. My 15-year-old son Sam just walked by, peeked at what I was writing and said, “Judy Blume? Oh she has some good writing and good characters,” and walked away.

We have a Little Library in our front yard and most of our books go in there when we’re done with them. But not the Blume. I feel selfish about this. I know I should put it back out into the world so someone else can feel the same euphoria that all of us felt when we saw Blume’s autograph. But I can’t let go. What if I have grandchildren someday? One of them might want me to read it aloud to them.

I’m keeping it.

Thanks for reading. -Connie