Tag: publishing

Author Matt Geiger guest posts today on life & writing–or life in the midst of writing. And publishing. And these “extraordinarily wonderful things” we call books. Along with his guest post, I’m offering a book giveaway for his upcoming collection, Astonishing Tales* (HenschelHAUS, 2018).

On Life & Writing

When I was a kid, I dreamed of being an author. I knew it wouldn’t make me rich, but as long as I could scrounge together enough money to buy some cardigan sweaters and a pipe, I was sure I could be happy. I could cultivate an aloof, eccentric nature, cover my clothing with coffee stains, and tousle my erratic hair on my own, for free. I would probably need to get a cat, too.

But most of all I would be, I imagined, very, very happy.

On the day my forthcoming book, Astonishing Tales!* (HenschelHAUS, 2018) became available for pre-order on Amazon Prime last week, I spent my time collecting warm cat urine in a little plastic test tube (because my cat got run over by a car and has a pelvis that is essentially now shrapnel) and driving my four-year-old daughter to the doctor (because she had a fever of 104) and freaking out.

Then I worried about the fact that the book needs a million more edits and perhaps the entire thing is embarrassingly prosaic and bad. Then I took a little break, a little “me time,” to worry about my weight, the increasing frequency with which I get up to pee in the middle of the night, and the fact that the president, whom I do not like, announces all his policy decisions and grievances on Twitter, which I also do not like.

What was surprising to me that day, was the fact that the world did not come to a screeching halt to celebrate what was, for me, something important. It just kept chugging along, not endorsing or condemning me and my little book. The same thing happened when my daughter was born. I stepped outside the hospital to find a bunch of bleary-eyed, uninterested people going to work. “This isn’t just a normal day,” I thought. Don’t they know?”

When you write a book, you tend to feel special, like you’ve just walked on the moon or climbed Mount Everest. But of course, those of us who have spent much of our lives in bookstores know this isn’t true. This, we are well aware, has been done before, and by authors far better than us. Writing is one of the civilization’s oldest professions – perhaps the oldest profession you can do while fully clothed.

I write narrative nonfiction (true-ish stories) and something that people insist on calling “essays.” (I protest, because the word “essays” puts me to sleep after making me think of grade school.) My first book, released in 2016, contained 44 of these stories and (sigh) essays. A handful of people read the collection. It received some nice reviews, a couple not-so-nice ones (thanks again, Florida). It even won a couple of awards, which I carry with me everywhere and show to strangers each time the chance arises.

“Crazy weather we’re having, right?” someone says to me at the airport bar.

“Sure is,” I reply. “Which is why I wear this big winter coat. And you know what’s inside it? A Midwest Book Award, several melted cough drops, and a key whose matching door is currently not known to me.”

“Look at all the rain coming down!” sometime will mention in a coffee shop.

“Yeah, do you have a plastic bag? I don’t want my Indie Book Award to get wet when I run to my car.”

Sometimes, when I get really lucky, people ask my favorite question: “Where can I buy your books?”

“Well, at some bookstores,” I usually say. “Or online. You know, wherever you usually buy books.”

“So,” one friend replied thoughtfully in the frozen food aisle at the local supermarket, “can I buy it at the gas station? The gas station is right by my house.”

“I don’t think they sell books,” I responded. “I mean, I know they sell road maps, which are kind of like very messy books, but I don’t think they sell the kind of books I write.”

“Hhhmm,” he hummed, pondering laboriously. “Do they sell it here?”

“Here?”

“Yeah, here,” he continued. “At the grocery store. I mean, not right here with the popsicles. That would be crazy. But maybe over with paper towels and things?”

That aisle does have a lot of paper in it. He had a point. And what’s the difference, really, between my book first book (The Geiger Counter: Raised by Wolves & Other Stories, HenschelHAUS, 2016) and the napkins, except that the thing I made has pithy observations about fatherhood printed on it while items on these shelves say “Bounty” over and over again. They both have the same chance of winning a Nobel Prize in literature.

“No, I’m sorry but I don’t think they sell it here,” I said.

At this point in such conversations, people usually look at me like I’m really going out of my way to inconvenience them. Like they asked where to find my book, and I told them they must first locate the Golden Fleece and the Ark of the Covenant, and only then can they obtain a book of stories about a plump man-child and a cute baby.

Or like I told them it’s primarily sold in violent brothels, in Romania.

“Where do you normally buy books?” I ask. “They probably have it, or they could at least get it for you. If you don’t want to go to a physical book store, you can always get it from Amazon. That’s like a bookstore that also sells dish towels, batteries and diapers, and you don’t have to stand up, walk or drive a car, or even put on pants to get there.”

This is a departure from the way I grew up. When I was a kid and tagged along with my dad, he would carefully and precisely locate each city’s bookstores like they were an oasis in a savage desert. As if they were fire escapes from the tragic, burning fires of everyday mundanity and bourgeois commerce. We didn’t always know where to get food, water, or gasoline, but there was never any doubt about where to locate an out-of-print book.

And that has become one of my favorite aspects of being an author – the chance to meet other people who love books as much as I do. It’s like being a parent and meeting other parents.

“Oh, you have a baby?! So do we!” you’ll say. “You love your baby? You think your baby is cute and smart and special? What a coincidence; so do we! You are very tired and have no money? We have so much in common!”

It’s the same with books, which are extraordinarily wonderful things, even when they are not quite extraordinary.

About the Book

In his new collection of stories, acclaimed author and humorist Matt Geiger seeks to “de-familiarize” us from the world, from the smallest detail to the most cosmic mythology, in order to see it all as if for the first time. Turning his “philosopher’s vision” to his own abundant Neanderthal DNA, parenting, competitive axe throwing, old age, and much more, he sets out in search of comic profundity. With a nod to the limits of human knowledge and understanding, particularly his own, he draws from the wisdom of an 83-year-old pin-up legend, Anton Chekhov, Santa Claus, modern boxers, Medieval monks, and of course, small children. Blending whimsy and gravitas, he unveils beauty, joy, and symmetry in a seemingly broken world.

Astonishing Tales!* (Your Astonishment May Vary) will hit bookshelves, the internet – and perhaps even some gas stations and grocery stores – in December of 2018. You can pre-order a copy HERE.

You can also enter the giveaway for a chance to win a copy (US residents only). Deadline to drop your name into the mix is Tuesday, August 21st.

About the Author

Matt Geiger’s debut book, The Geiger Counter: Raised by Wolves & Other Stories was published in 2016. It won First Prize in the Midwest Book Awards and was named as a Finalist in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards and the American Book Fest. He is also the winner of numerous journalism awards. He lives in Wisconsin with his wife, his daughter, ten animals, and several metaphysical questions. Learn more about the author at geigerbooks.com.

*Photo credits: Headshot of Matt Geiger by Matthew Jefko; “once upon a time” from Visual Hunt; people congregating in bookstore by PHOTOPHANATIC1 on VisualHunt / CC BY-NC-SA.