Today's pub day for my fifth novel, Expiration Date. By "pub day," I don't mean that I'll be taking my book out for a beer at the nearest Irish-themed sports-type bar. (Though that might be fun.) No, "pub" stands for "publication." Huge thanks to everyone who's pre-ordered the book, entered the St. Martin's Minotaur contest, and spread the good word. Books live or die by word of mouth, and thanks to you guys, this baby has quite a few lungfuls of air.
Remember: if you have pre-ordered, or plan on buying a copy through next Monday, send me proof of purchase via e-mail and I'll send you Sand In My Gun, a 20,000 word PDF full of DVD-style "bonus" content. It's a rare peek inside my mind, circa 1999. God help you all.
So what does an author do on pub day? Well, this morning I wrote. Answered some e-mail. Kick around some story ideas. But all of that stops in about an hour. Today's also my son Parker's eighth birthday, so we'll be taking him to see Diary of A Wimpy Kid, which apparently is some kind of grindhouse-style, bloodsoaked R-rated revenge flick. (Wait... it's what?) As proud as I am of my books, I'm infinitely prouder of my boy. And birthday trumps pub day any day of the week.
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