I can see for miles and miles and miles.
I went out this morning to pick up the stuff in that picture. There’s a big ol’ road trip in my very near future, and I’m tremendously psyched and hyperexcited and yet more than a bit nervous and still questioning my own sanity. Sitting across from the woman at the AAA and looking at the U.S. highway map beneath the glass on her desk and then walking out with all these books and guides in hand brought a weight and a reality to this trip that have had those gut butterflies coming and going all day long. (And yes, I’ll be writing more about it as it nears. But not today.)
So I get home and see that writer Jay Lake has mentioned my GeekDad review of The Specific Gravity of Grief, and for some reason, this moves me – I mean, yes, it’s the “writerly” thing to do: Someone says positive things about your book, and you turn around and share it, of course, but I mean, the guy clearly had other things to think about.
I think what it is is that Jay’s book has put Dad and his cancer in my thoughts this week, and even though it’s been more than a decade and a half since he died, I still have days where I’m saddened by the way I acted at the time and by my almost-total failure to be there for him and my mom and my brothers.
I don’t get that chance back, I know. But when I read this on Jay’s blog –
I have a long term ambition for this book, which is to have copies make their way into oncologist’s offices and infusion centers around the country. I don’t feel a need to make any money off that process, which will push the price down, or possibly lead to some fund-raising as well to place copies very cheaply.
However, for any of that to happen, we need to sell through the 250-unit limited edition printing that Fairwood Press has put out. The wired.com review will help, as will forthcoming reviews. But one of the best things you could do for me and my cancer is spread the word, so people who are interested know about the book and can consider purchasing it.
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