On Friday, I am being interviewed for a short author web documentary. It's essentially a digital interview that would in theory be a part of a larger package advertising my books.
I say in theory because it isn't really part of a larger package. I'm the sample author, the demonstration salad spinner shown at the Tupperware party. The floor model, banged up but still functional, available without bells and whistles. A producer from a web ad agency that serves publishing houses (among others) is considering adding author interviews to their publisher packages. So they need to show these publishers what exactly they have in mind. Lucky me, I get to be the guinea pig.
That's great for me in a lot of ways. I get more experience at being interviewed, and in the end a small web movie of me will be shown to publishers. The idea is to demonstrate the product, not me, but it can only help me to get my name out there. Maybe one of the publishing houses has a thing for dik-diks. You never know.
As part of the interview, I am required to read a short passage from my book. I am too close to this product... I am sick of all of it. Who has a suggestion for me on what to read? Do you remember what part of the book stood out to you?
2 comments:
The horseback safari part is fun and would probably make a good read-aloud. That's the first thing that came to mind, anyway. I hope the interview goes well!
Admittedly, the part that stood out most to me is probably not the part you want to read.
It's the September 11th section. I found that so powerful because for all I'd read, all that had been said about that day, it was the first time I read something that captured what I felt that day.
I've never lived in the city proper, so I can't call myself a New Yorker, but I loved the city since I was in college in New Brunswick, and I go every chance I can, barely sleeping for however many days I've managed to arrange this time.
Stuck halfway across the country, and watching the events of that day unfold--watching places I knew destroyed, wondering where the friends I'd lost contact with who once worked in those buildings were, knowing that friends were in that mass of people walking across the bridges--I felt helpless at least as much as horrified. And your story about that day is the first one I've seen that captured that feeling.
I don't know how what I felt compared in magnitude to what you felt--you have a much stronger connection to the city, and were farther away by an order of magnitude--but I've been meaning to thank you for that for a while, and this seems as good a place as any.
OK, actual advice on what to read--the introduction to the book is a good, personal hook. The hippo shopping expedition should get them laughing. Depends on the mood you want to evoke, I think.
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