So yesterday I visited my publisher in New York City to sign copies of HOLD TIGHT for my wonderful sales force and for bookstores who special ordered them.
I walked into the room, pen akimbo– and the table of books you see here was what greeted me.
“Wow,” I said, taking the above photo with my phone.
“Oh that’s only about half of them.”
I sat down and got to work. As I came upon my second hour of signing, someone asked, as someone inevitably does, “Isn’t your hand getting sore?”
The honest answer: No.
My hand only gets sore when NO ONE wants me to sign a book. I still remember my early days, sitting in some Waldenbooks at a mall, no one approaching me, trying to look busy, playing with my pen, straightening out my untouched pile of bookmarks, feeling something like the authorial equivalent to a poster child (”You can buy his book…or you can turn the page…”).
Now I’m supposed to complain because too many people want me to sign their books???
Forget it.
I’m a lucky man. I get to write books and tell stories for a living. You the reader trust me enough to give me that opportunity. I can’t wait for you to get HOLD TIGHT. I can’t wait to receive those emails complaining that I kept you up too late or that you couldn’t put the book down or that maybe what happens to Mike and Tia and Adam and Betsy and Dante and Joe and all the rest moved you and made you think and stirred your heart.
And if I see you on the road – my full tour schedule is on the myspace page or harlancoben.com – I will be thrilled to sign your book. And when I do, you will know that my hand feels just fine.
Best,
Harlan Coben