Dear friends,
Imagine that you’re in a bookstore. You’re surrounded by thousands of books. You’ve wandered to the self-help or inspiration section because, frankly, you need some self-help like only Americans can provide it and you need some inspiration because the kids are always yelling in the backseat and you’re washing the same ergonomic carrot peeler a thousand times and you can never figure out how to get your TiVo to work even though you’ve been paying for it for a year now. And you feel overwhelmed by the choices of books and the only thing you have to go on is how the books look and feel (and the typography, of course, in that endless search for Filosofia, the perfect font)—and by the quotes on the cover.
Yes, the quotes on the cover.
You know how, when you pick up a book and turn it over and there’s a big fat quote from Oprah or someone equally as influential in your world and you decide that this must be a good book or she wouldn’t have endorsed it? And you decide to buy it because you recognize all the important people who are quoted on the cover saying things like, “this book changed my life,” and “this book is better than sliced bread in a can of adobo sauce.”
I have finished my book, LIFE IS A VERB, and have now officially entered into the 9th circle of hell, which is when the publisher asks, innocently, "who do you know who might provide an advance quote that might help sell the book?" And you fall, fall, into that dark corner of Satan’s lair where you spend eternity identifying people who might deign to take a peek at an advance copy and provide a quote that will help sell the book. People whose names are meaningful and known by others in some way. There’s just no other way to say that, is there? Can I tell you that I Officially Hate This Part of It?
And yet, my dear friends, for one of the few times in my life, I am fully proud of what I have done (except, of course, I was also mighty proud that time in the 6th grade when I, a girl, beat Jackie Russ, a boy, in the Field Day Softball Toss, and in the 7th grade when I was named the Ping Pong Champion of Morganton Junior High, and when I gave birth to two extraordinary humans—those are right up there, too). I believe this is a book that needs to be in the world, I truly do. And I hover on the edge of painfulness when I say that because it feels boastful. I don’t mean for it to. I feel, in some great way, a mere agent for this book’s delivery into the world. I needed to write it, for me.
That’s a long way of saying this: If you think of people I should approach to review LIFE IS A VERB, please let me know—perhaps you think that Mitch Albom would be a great fit for the message of this book, or Maya Angelou, or a college president or NPR reporter, or the author of one of your favorite books. I need to cast a wide net, so any and all suggestions are welcomed.
And if your aunt Olive’s sister’s boy’s newspaper carrier is the great-nephew of the grandson of a former Miss USA’s second-grade teacher, or if you have any connection to people who are known, whose endorsement might help LIFE IS A VERB reach its audience, please let me know that, too. I would be forever grateful.
And, like the project that has inhabited this book with its artwork, I would be remiss if I didn’t include real readers of 37days in this process because your comments mean the most to me. Over the past three years, I have gotten incredible emails and comments from people about the impact of 37days in their lives. I’ve asked my publisher about including “testimonials” from the people who have joined me on this journey—you. And if you’ve read this far in this long nervous marketing rant, you really are a reader of 37days….
If 37days has been meaningful to you in some way, I hope you’ll consider writing a very brief, 2-3 sentence “testimonial” that might be used inside the book and on 37days. You can either leave a comment here or email me with “LIFE IS A VERB Testimonial” in the subject line. Not all can be used, but I’ll include as many as I can. Please include your name and location (city/state/country), if you feel comfortable doing so.
With great love and affection,
Patti
[image from brainfork]
Dear friends,
