Forget holidays–there is no day I look forward more than book box day. This is my fourth book box day and it is getting even more exciting each time. I think this is because writing is weird. What is a WordDoc, anyway, but a bunch of invisible data floating around in the Cloud? Even having it on a hard drive doesn’t make it anymore concrete. Call me a luddite, but technology still feels like magic a lot of the time, and therefore not quite real.
Physical books, with their new book smell and soft covers and turnable pages are real. Still magical, but in a different way. A concrete way. A, “this is a real thing that I can hold and touch and accidentally drop in the bathtub without erasing all the files” way. It’s exciting and validating and it makes me squee and dance around and no, I will never film that part for you because I have a tiny bit of pride, but I will confess that there is a Book Box Day song, and the only word is “books.”
“Books books books books…”
Anyway, on Book Box Day in my household, several things happen. First, I rush down the stairs to collect the box of my author copies, then rush back up, probably cackling with glee and alarming the neighbors. Then I slice into the box like a hot knife through butter (with the assistance of dogs) and stare at the new covers. The first book I pull out is handed to my wife, who always gets the first copy. (I sign it on the first day because otherwise I get so anxious about what to write in it for her that it can take up to a year) The next copy becomes my author copy, which I will use for author readings and as a reference for future books in the series. This copy sits on my desk and gets annotated and probably will end up with a broken spine and some coffee stains. Lastly, I text my friend and cover artist, Ann McMan, and tell her yet again how much I love her work.
The rest of my author copies are reserved for give-aways, local events (remember when those were a thing? hahah oh COVID), and signed copies for friends and family. In this case, I will be giving my parents a redacted copy because this book is muuuuuch steamier than my previous books and I’m a repressed WASP at heart.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pet my copies of Spindrift like they are living creatures and maybe arrange them in piles.