I had this big introspective post planned. In fact, I left it below. But before I get to it, I have to vent. I’ve spent much of the past 72 hours tearing my hair. And crying. And drinking (when I wasn’t driving to Tennessee.)
Amazon made a mysterious, unexplained decision to cancel pre-orders for the Kindle version of Not Without My Father. If you pre-ordered it, PLEASE DISREGARD THEIR STUPID EMAIL TELLING YOU THE PUBLISHER CANCELLED THE BOOK. It’s really unhelpful of them to fail to give you an updated link to purchase the Kindle version, which is now live here:
You can buy your own Kindle version for $3.99. You can give it as a gift. You can copy and paste your Goodreads reviews. I appreciate any/all of those actions to numb the maddening frustration of recent days.
And, on top of everything, Dad has been sick. For a while, we weren’t sure he’d make it to the launch party at Parnassus. He rallied yesterday, but he’s still struggling with wicked bronchitis he can’t shake. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers. This is his big moment, and his autograph hand needs to work as well as his motor mouth.
Everything is a scary thing. After months of writing and designing, pitching and planning, tearing my life apart and piecing it back together, I await the reception of a massive piece of me.
Novels are easy. If people don’t like them, it isn’t personal.
Memoir has to be personal. It’s a soul-baring vomit of uncomfortable information. If a reader doesn’t like it, they don’t like me.
It’s an unmoored, vertiginous place to be.
When Not Without My Father launches tomorrow, I hope you will buy copies. Please recommend it to your friends. Ask loved ones to make memories, using this book as inspiration.
Buy. Read. Recommend. Make a Memory.
And come back tomorrow for the Not Without My Father Launch Day Par-tay!
Follow my launch tour in pictures. Andra Watkins Tumblr