I’m worried.
Why, you may ask? I’ll tell you why I’m worried. Until last week I was satisfied, at last, everybody in Lake County who wanted to know about Lake County’s remarkable history had bought the book I wrote. I thought they were up to their noses in stories of our past.
Having sold out the first printing and nearly emptied my back room of the books from the second printing, I looked for a rest. I had no plans to print another thousand books, which I would have to lug up the driveway to my porch, like the first two printings, and then box the books, one by one, to satisfy the orders. I was happy as a clam that, at last, the rush was over. No more would I have to drive every day to the Upper Lake post office and hand more of the 3-pound books to Angela for shipping. I was through.
Not that I minded. It was work I loved. But I was looking forward to getting out the dozen or so other books I’ve written. I was anxious to start all over again with happier book signings and having people say nice things about my writing.
What happened, instead, was something I didn’t expect.
For several weeks, orders dribbled off to zip. I was sure I could go back to writing more stuff. I thought that was the end of the orders. Cleo, my cat and Number One Helper, and I, relaxed to enjoy our accomplishment.
Then it happened.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, my post office box in Upper Lake was stuffed with more orders. The rush was starting all over again. I felt like Al Pacino in “The Godfather” when, on being forced into mob life a second time, exclaimed, “Just when I thought I was out, they … pull … me … in.”
Well, it was not quite like that. I have all the joy of accomplishment any author would be tickled to receive. I like to sell my books. To find out people still wanted to read my book couldn’t make me happier. It’s just that I hadn’t expected the avalanche.
I wanted to know why. After a while, a light came on.
A month, or so, ago I started a monthly newsletter. It wasn’t my idea. It was my son, Gene’s, idea. Since all I do is write for people, it seemed like a good idea.
On top of the monthly newsletter, my son, and my daughters, Christina and Dolly, put up a wonderful website on the Internet; something I couldn’t do by myself.
In both cases, in the newsletter and the website, my Lake County history book was mentioned. That was the reason for this sudden and totally unexpected flood of new orders. People on vacation, or traveling, or who had not bothered to read my Record-Bee ad, had their memories jogged by the newsletter and the website.
Now, I stop right here to say something that must be said. If you follow my weekly Witter Springs stories every Wednesday, you know I never commercialize; not for myself or for anyone else. I never write to promote a person or a business in my stories. Every tale I write is a true story of something that happened to me. If I did otherwise, before long, my readers would think my stories were self serving. They would stop reading them.
It is true, when my old Jeep was fixed to run better, I mentioned the good local mechanic that fixed my Jeep. I freely admit, when a dead pine tree in my drive had to be cut down for firewood, I praised my tree-cutting friend. Once, when my roof had holes and leaked from the rains, the men from a local roofing company patched all the holes so I didn’t have to set out buckets. In each case, these persons were more than just workmen. They were friends. I mentioned them as you would have done when a friend goes out of his way to give you a hand. I have never, nor will I ever, advertise for anyone.
That also applies to what you are reading. No matter how much it may sound like a commercial for my book, it’s not. Enough people have asked for that book already to please any author. Cleo and I agree; we are happy enough with the interest people have already shown in my book.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs. To contact him or to subscribe to his weekly newsletter, email genepaleno@gmail.com. Find more information at www.genepaleno.com.
