REPORT #5 from LISA SELIN DAVIS on the FIRST FICTION TOUR
Hey there: learn something about Colorado here today: not only did it produce the first literary wonderboy in recent memory whose writing and ideas actually deserve all the hype, but it has great book clubs! Didja know that? I didn't. --Elizabeth
Denver, CO
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Report from Lisa Selin Davis:
Yesterday was the tour hump day, the fourth of seven. By now, we approach each reading with mild dread. What happened? I used to love reading. Mostly, I loved it before I had a book to sell, before I felt I had to charm people into spending $24. Twenty-four dollars does seem like a lot of money to me. What would I pay $25 for? That’s two and a half entire months of NPR, one ticket to the anti-Wal-Mart documentary, a made-in-sweatshop sweater. Readers, I think, are a rare and precious commodity in this country, a special breed who have the patience and openness to dive into a new book. We should, you know, shower them with love, or whatever.
It seemed at least 10 people there were willing to cough up the dough for a dive into Belly, maybe more. It was our best reading yet. Listen to this, fellow book tourers: Denver is a writers’ dream. There were two book clubs present, both of which were reading all three of our books! Twice, they had to retrieve more chairs from the storeroom to accommodate listeners. They were a wonderful audience -- laughing in all the right spots. Now I understand why bands thank the audience at the end of a performance: a good audience can change everything. I’ve read sections in certain settings that have been a big hit, and, in other spots, zilch. No reaction. It seems strange that the work will seem more or less successful depending on who’s listening to it. It seemed so static to me: once it’s down on paper, that’s the way it is. But it’s not. And that’s the problem: my relationship to the book changes depending on audience reaction. Sometimes I’m proud of it; others, I hold it away from my nose like a mildewed rag.
My motel room in Denver looks out to a closed amusement park, right next to the Pepsi arena: remember the days before every big building had a corporate sponsor? The airport here is designed to elicit the snow-capped Rockies: white peaks rising up from the vast prairie. Of course, inside, it is just another airport, a member of the generic city, except this one has a popcorn store. How much money can one make just selling popcorn? So many ways to make money--I’ve got to think of one.
Today it’s on to Albuquerque, where we pray this new trend of folks actually showing up to the readings and buying books will continue.
--LISA SELIN DAVIS