Pics From Reading on 1/22
The reading at Brookline Booksmith last week went very well. Nobody died, at least. That's the measuring stick I use for these things. If someone died then it usually means the reading didn't go well. If two people died than there's like a 82% chance that it didn't go well. And if more three or more people died it would mean that I'm writing this on the run, from either a seedy motel or at some internet cafe in a small rural town. I also would have dyed my hair and told strangers my name was Gary.
But no one died, so yep, the event was a success. Ben Greenman and Dan Kennedy were their typically funny and entertaining selves and I managed to keep my stammering to a minimum. I even auctioned off my old XBOX for $50 -- even though I forgot to bring the bonus ham and cheese sandwich accessory.
Here are some pics:
A good turnout. Police estimated over 180,000 people were there.
Ben Greenman and a volunteer from the audience read his humor interview piece about "Nearism."
Dan Kennedy read from his funny memoir, Rock On.
I managed to keep my stammering down to a personal low of 15.71 stammers per minute.
A woman who may or may not be my wife read a testimonial verifying the authenticity of the XBOX I auctioned off.
The winning bid was $50. We almost threw in a reusable Whole Foods bag, but the woman who may or may not be my wife hedged on that in the end. Still, a fun time was had by all. Plus, like I said, nobody died.
I'm in this week's Boston Phoenix. The profile features another photograph of me in all my awkward glory. Thankfully, in this one I'm not playing a video game in my man attic. Instead it's of me in my hallway holding a game controller. It may seem unnatural, but you'd be surprised how often I hangout in my hallway holding my game controller. It's kind of creepy, actually.
The Arlington Advocate has a profile about me and my book this week. As you can see it features another photo of me playing a video game. If Martians landed on Earth today they'd assume all I did was play video games. Then they'd slowly eat each and every one of us. Feet first. Oh, Martians! You're so irascible!
I'll be reading from my book and trying my best not to appear like a nervous wreck at