I'm Down on My Knees

During the two weeks and millions of words of speechifying that went on during the recent political conventions, the line that stood out the most for me was when Barack Obama quoted Abraham Lincoln as saying, "I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go." 
Damn, I thought, even from beyond the grave a Lincoln turn-of-phrase can still steal the show. In the writing of this post I learned that there is some question as to whether the line was ever actually uttered by Lincoln. As with questions that swirl around the authenticity of all those great lines from Shakespeare, I disagree with Mick Jagger--it is the song, not the singer. Even if Lincoln didn't say it, it's a great line, and like our current President, I'd like to appropriate it for my own purposes here.
As happens, I'm on my knees here begging readers...friends...family...to buy my new book, The Virgin Missile Crisis. I don't come to my knees easily to make this request. I'm well aware that money and time are issues for most everyone. I'm particularly aware that these days there's an inordinate number of all our acquaintances who have something to sell. Andy Warhol once quite presciently said that one day we'll all be famous for 15 minutes. It now seems equally likely that we'll all be artists for 15 minutes. I mean who do you know who hasn't written a book? Taken up painting? Recorded a CD? Certainly the technology and possibilities are there for most of us to indulge our artistic longings. By and large I think this is a good thing.
But this abundance of creativity does not come without a price. In my own case, I estimate that price could be close to $100 a month if I put my money where my mouth is and supported every creative venture of all the people I know who are engaged in such ventures. And it's not just the money. Is there enough wall space in any normal home to display all the photos and canvases? Enough shelf space for all the books? Enough time to listen to all the CDs and attend all the stage plays?
Moreover, are there enough polite smiles and nods in the kindest disposition to disguise disappointment in a friend's work?  Enough patience to forestall moving on to works of creativity that are more, as the euphemism goes, your cup of tea? Enough guilt to motivate purchase and appreciation of the sincerest, yet sorriest, efforts?
Down here on my knees, I'm keenly aware of these obstacles to your purchase of my book because I've had to hurdle them (or not) in regards to the artistic endeavors of many of my friends. But beg I must. It's a brave new world of book publishing, and even the major publishers are scrambling to make sense of it. One thing is clear though, social networking, word of mouth, and creative persistence are essential to marketing a self-made project.
So please allow me to amplify the first professional review of The Virgin Missile Crisis, reproduced at the top of this post (click on it for a bigger, better read). Kirkus Reviews calls the book "sweet." Like most authors, I prefer words like stunningor brilliant to describe my work, but sweet will do. Besides, the book is sweet. It's also, as Kirkus says, "a charming coming-of-age story." Admittedly, Kirkus is not terribly sold on my ending. But I can live with that, especially since it echoes the criticism leveled at the great American novel--The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (and, yes, I did just go there). Critics have scorched Twain for bringing Tom Sawyer into the novel at the end and turning what had been a deeply probing dissection of American hypocrisy into a farcical boys' tale. Well, it was Mark Twain who first inspired me to become a writer, so if they can fault him for screwing up his ending, they can fault me for screwing up mine. Writers take these plunges without regard to critics...without regards to anything much, really, other than how it feels at the time. (A far more egregious error in the review is identifying a character known as The Worst President Ever as Nixon--clearly a brain fart on the reviewer's part since Nixon in that context doesn't fit at all logically.)
Nonetheless, I'm happy to build my plea for your support of The Virgin Missile Crisis on the Kirkus Review. It's not just for fans of charming coming-of-age novels. It's for fans of comic novels because it has lots of laughs. It's for fans of historical fiction because it interweaves the startling public record of one of our nation's most trying times. It's for Baby Boomers because it captures in personal, intimate detail a time when we as a generation were almost annihilated. It's for my family and friends from Enfield, Connecticut, because even if they don't find themselves portrayed in it exactly, they're going to recognize people, places and events that are. And it's for all the people who have come into my life in the 50 years since the Cuban Missile Crisis...people like my friend Dave, who just happened to send me the following message as I was in the midst of writing this post:

started your book a few days ago... I started reading it with the thought "I want to enjoy this because my friend wrote it"... which eventually turned into "I'm enjoying this book because I'm enjoying it"...Freakin' excellent. I don't know what to say... what started out as a boyhood story (bringing back memories of a number of childhood kitchens I sat in, smelling marinara and listening to Italian-accented English) turned out to make sense of many in our political system today!

Modesty cannot prevent me from telling you that I've received similarly positive feedback from other friends who have read the book. And because I've had the good fortune to have been in this position before with my previous books, I know for a certainty that over time such personal testimonials mean more than any professional review no matter how glowing. (Slight digression: Many years ago, the woman who used to cut my hair in Thousand Oaks, California, traveled to New England to watch the leaves turn. One day she was in a lobster shack on the coast of Maine and asked the waitress to take her picture. As she did, the waitress asked where the traveler was from. When she heard Thousand Oaks, she asked, "Do you know Dan Riley?" My hair lady answered, indeed I do, and the waitress exclaimed, "The Dan Riley School for a Girl is the most important book I ever read. I raised my daughter by it." Stephen King probably has that happen to him a thousand times a week, as in: "Oh, Stephen King. We named our dog after Cujo!" But I'm here to tell you that having it happen just once is enough to float you through much of life.) 
Anyway, my knees are killing me, so let's get on to the business at hand--to wit, how you can answer my prayers:Buy the book (link above)Share the link to this post with your friendsAfter reading the book, write a brief review on AmazonOr at least give it a star rating on AmazonWrite a review on GoodReads (join GoodReads...fun site for readers)Ask your local book seller to stock itSuggest it as a selection for your book clubMention it in conversation when the subject gets around to booksShare it on FacebookBuy a copy for everyone on your Christmas list