I’m In Chicago Next Week! And Denver The Week After! Come Visit?
So the announcements for my book tour for The Sol Majestic (this is your last week to get the preorder swag!) are running late thanks to a whole bunch of personal issues – I mean, my daughter’s getting married, I’m building a wedding trellis for her, yadda yadda. But I will be in Chicago next week with Sarah Gailey and their upcoming book Magic For Liars, which I assure you will be the next big thing: I’ve read it and it is awesome.
In any case, if you wanna help, RSVPing to the event on social media will do wonders. In this age of “We all interact only through Facebook,” clicking the “I’m going” or “I’m interested” button boosts the event and gets more people going. So even if you know you can’t go, saying “I’m interested” (or even better, sharing the event with your buddies) helps your authors of choice a lot.
Chicago, next Wednesday at 7:00 pm:
Volumes Bookstore
1474 N Milwaukee Ave, Chicago, Illinois 60622
Denver, Tuesday June 11th at 7:00 pm:
Tattered Cover, Aspen Grove
7301 S Santa Fe Dr, Unit 240, Littleton, Colorado 80120
Ann Arbor, Tuesday June 18th at 7:00 pm:
Literati Bookstore
124 E Washington St, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48104
San Francisco, Saturday June 22nd at 3:00 pm:
Borderlands Books
866 Valencia Street, San Francisco, California 94110
Read My Favorite Part Of THE SOL MAJESTIC!
So! Were you looking for a book about:
- Lavish descriptions of exotic, luscious foods made with science-fiction technologies
- Acts of staggering kindness done by strangers for beautiful reasons
- A manic artist who is obsessed with creating the perfect meal, continually crashing into the cold accountant who controls his purse-strings
- And the tale of an abandoned boy who needs to figure out who he is before he implodes from loneliness and self-doubt?
Boy, I sure hope so, because that’s what The Sol Majestic is about! And thankfully, Tor has provided the sample chapter I think best gives the flavor of this weirdie little tome – it’s the selection I read at conventions, the one where the abandoned boy meets the manic artist.
If you want to know what The Sol Majestic is really about, well, hie thee forth and go read the excerpt – I think you’ll like it. This is honestly, probably, the best thing I’ll ever write.
And the good news is, if you like that (or just feel like taking a chance on some random weasel’s books), if you preorder The Sol Majestic you’ll get in on the pre-order swag I have coming out, including signed bookplates and awesome drink recipes! All you have to do is email me; the details are here.
But anyway, if you’re interested in sweeping galactic tales about soup, love, and commerce, well, The Sol Majestic’s got it for you. So go look, go think about it, and on Friday I’ll be holding a contest about the coolest foods you can imagine where you can win a free advance copy!
But still. Go look!
Our Latest Dorky Adventures
My wife hates trinkets – she wants a clean house, and all the little promo items we pick up at conventions are her enemy. So we’ll get a free collectible coin for seeing ENDGAME on opening night, and she’ll toss it. If work sends me a promotional Magic mat, she’ll give it away to our godchildren. She wants nothing – nothing – in the house that is not functional.
But when I bought Sekiro, a PlayStation game, they gave me a plastic samurai sword letter opener. It even came on a little stand. And she was away that weekend, so I became attached.
“Get rid of it,” she said.
“It’s useful!” I cried.
“What the hell use do you have for a cheap plastic letter opener?”
I stared her right in the eye. “Home defense.”
“Home defense?”
“It’s small. It’s concealable. They’ll never see it coming.”
She rolled her eyes and left me alone.
And then, hours later, when she was lying on the couch reading a book, I walked up for a kiss. She puckered her lips, and – AH HA! –
Samurai sword at her throat.
She never saw it coming.
“See?” I said, then kissed her on her stunned lips and danced away.
Over the next few weeks, she came to understand the power of stealth that was a cheap knockoff promo samurai sword. She’d be in the tub. She’d be downstairs sewing. She’d be going in for a cuddle, and – AH HA! –
Samurai sword.
I was, indeed, a ninja.
But the sword vanished the day after trash day, so I figured that Gini had finally gotten tired of me being a dork and had chucked it, which, you know, fair enough. Certainly I got more entertainment out of that than most plastic. And we curled up on the couch to watch Game of Thrones, when – AH HA!
Samurai sword at my throat.
“You are not the only ninja,” she said, and I realized that a war had begun.