Last night’s appearance at Posman Books in Chelsea Market went well, and the turnout was terrific. Anytime a bookseller must drag out more chairs and offer stools to a standing-room audience, you feel good. And last night marked the debut of my new author bio, read by the bookseller as part of her introduction of me. She asked if there was something on the Random House website that she might use, and though I’m sure there is something (yup, there is), I told her about my recent bio writing contest and the winner, written by Charles Wolgemuth, and we immediately jumped online and printed it from this blog.
Earlier in the day, my publicist gave the new bio her enthusiastic approval, only requesting one small change. We still await the opinion of my vacationing editor, but it’s looking like Charles’s bio will soon become official.
In contrast to the entry that I shared yesterday, which referred to me as the modern-day Mark Twain (someone on Facebook later suggested that the modern day Tom Sawyer might be more apropos), comes this entry that I thought I would share today. Written by Suzanne Thompason, the mother-in-law of a good friend, and someone who I have never met, this was the only entry that does not cast me in entirely glowing terms.
And I sort of admire Suzanne’s backhanded-compliment and her willingness to stick it to me.
It’s the kind of thing I might have done.
Matthew Dicks' partially autobiographical first novel, Something Missing, reveals a somewhat subversive character who enjoys the idea of undetected crime and secretly believes that he is cleaner than most folks (and, by implication, better). Mr. Dicks himself vehemently denies these characteristics. To further probe his many-faceted personality, visit his website at www.matthewdicks.com or check out his blog at matthewdicks.com.