Or Even The Rockford Files...

As mentioned two posts ago, Josie and I went to an independent publisher's book fair. Here are some thoughts I had while there....

- One of the vendors was eagerly selling Rubik's Cube solutions as a holiday gift - I checked my watch to make sure I was still in 2008.

- Speaking of, everyone tried to sell their wares as the perfect holiday gift. Based on his offerings, I assume one vendor thought everyone had Marxist friends who'd be interested in the coming rise (re-rise?) of the Soviet Empire.

- Another was selling sonnets, most of which had to do with old tv show, Hawaii Five-0. I told the guy he mighta had a sale if only he had a thing for Barnaby Jones.

- Several of the exhibitors had a tray of candy to welcome visitors. I always felt guilty taking anything when I knew I wasn't gonna buy anything. Except at the table that had mini Raspberry Three Musketeers. Unlike their seventeen books about 9/11 conspiracy theories, I couldn't be expected to pass up that deliciousness.

- I did feel kinda bad passing by everyone's table, without buying (we did buy two books - viva small presses!), but one was particularly tough.

I recognized a book I had bought at this fair two or three years ago - when I mentioned it to the author, he said, "Great! Here's the sequel!"
I responded, "Yeah, I see," took a quick look at it, smiled, and walked away.

harris

Ugh

So Josie and I went to a Small Independent Publishers book fair on Saturday. I'll write more about it tomorrow, but I think my "favorite" part was during a seminar when an agent was talking about memoirs, specifically James Frey, and invoked the phrase "creative memoirs."

Someone in the audience asked, "What's the difference between a memoir and a creative memoir?"

harris

If You Want A Laugh...

I was just checking the customer reviews on amazon.com for The Ultimate Dog Lovers book that I have a story in - Of course, you can't really take these seriously as most are prolly written by people who have some interest in promoting the book.

But, check out all the reviews...read them in order all the way to number seventeen.

I'm fairly certain Pamela didn't bother reading the book

Rock On,

Aitch

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Teens Talk Middle School

If you find yourself craving more of my stylings, buy this newly released book.


It's got a story in it by yours truly about a crush I had in middle-school (though we never called it "middle-school"), and its disastrous unfolding.

I shake my head and sweat just thinking about it.


Rock On,

Aitch

Performance Anxiety

So I had this audition last night at Gotham Comedy Club for a talent agency. How'd I do? On a scale of 1-10, I grade myself a six...Josie gave me a seven. Some jokes at the beginning of my set that normally get good laughs, only got middlin' laughs. I think it was due to nerves (mine, not the audience).

As some readers (actually maybe only one) know...I suffer from stage fright. That wouldn't be such a big deal if I were say, an accountant, but it's kinda important when you're a stand-up comic.

It's not uncommon for me to get headaches and/or stomach aches before shows (I even get nervous at open mics). I've also gotten lock jaw, shortness of breath and/or "the shakes."

It's gotten better but it always kills me when I get the "you look so comfortable/confident up there" as it's the last thing I'd expect to hear.

btw - this blog is the basis of my memoir.

Rock On,

Aitch

They Should Promote My Story More

So, the book I have an essay in, The Ultimate Dog Lover, is currently ranked 602,656 on Amazon in terms of book sales.

I didn't even know there were that many books.

Rock On,

Aitch

What Did I Expect?

I took a memoir-writing workshop yesterday. There were about 15 people in the class. All they wanted to talk about was their books.

What a bunch of narcissists.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Ultimate Dog Lover

So, I've got personal essays in two upcoming books. They are actually both coming out around the same time but since I just got a pic of the book cover of one, I'll plug that one first...



This will include my story of how I obtained my pup Stewie.

"A New York Love Affair" details how I purchased Stew, thinking he was pure-breed, but soon found out otherwise. Even so, I don't feel ripped off at all.

It's basically the feel-good story of the year, if not the decade (which is also "the century.")

Rock On,

Aitch

My Injury?

Once in a while, I troll CL for writing opportunities (there aren't many for my style of writin').

Found one, loking for non-fictional stories about dating/sex/school/etc...but they didn't say who they were. I wrote to them for the name of their company, a website, etc...

This is what I got back...

I am not releasing publication, author or book details the public at this time. Those details will only be released to an individual once a story has been accepted for publication and release and copyright documentation has been signed. Sorry but you must understand the prospective that I am coming from.

Thanks for your injury.

Umm, yeah, right.

Rock On,

Aitch

Finally,

www.HarrisBloom.com.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Blog Of Record

Oddly, the blog of The National Journal picked up my McSweeney's piece here (go to bottom) cause you know, it's so important.

Rock On,

Aitch

Eleventh in a Series

Here's Part 11 of a series I'm writing for reallysmalltalk.com...

There's Nothing Funny About Stand-Up Comedy

Rock On,

Aitch

McSweeney's

One of my listststs is online at mcsweeneys.net right over here.

Rock On,

Aitch

Rock On, Indeed...

I'm a big fan of Dan Kennedy's work, from his McSweeney's pieces , to his books.

For his latest book, Rock On (which I just linked to), he ran a contest to see who can write the best Office Power Ballads (you read that correctly).

I was one of the winners. Here is my entry (ignore fact my dog is named Stew) -

No One Like Stew
(To the tune of The Scorpions' No One Like You)

Man, its been a long time that we’ve been cube mates
I remember whenyou were a temp
And I made you fetch me coffee

Dude, nine to five aint no way to live life
Boring work, lousy pay,fluorescent lights,
Having one confidante is the key

There’s no one like Stew
I can’t wait for the days with Stew
‘Specially now that they fired ‘drew
Even filing is fun with Stew

No one like Stew
I can’t wait for the days with Stew
‘Specially now that they fired ‘drew
Even filing is fun with Stew

Bro, remember when your computer froze up
And they blocked us fromviewing some sites
My laughter could not be restrained

Oooh, Stew, if you ever decide to move on
You’ve got to give me aone-month heads-up
There’s no way that I’m gonna stay

There’s no one like Stew
I can’t wait for the days with Stew
‘Specially now that they fired ‘drew
Even filing is fun with Stew

No one like Stew
I can’t wait for the days with Stew
‘Specially now that they fired ‘drew
Even filing is fun with Stew

No one like Stew.
2X

Rock On,

Aitch

It Never Fails....

So this new literary magazine, Two With Water, accepted one of my essays, on the condition that I make certain revisions.
"Sure," I e-mailed, "No problem."
So I made the revisions.
I just got the following e-mail from them...

Thanks again for your revision and your interest in Two With Water. You'll find more of our (humble) comments attached. Unfortunately, with the revisions made, we don't think the piece fits in with the publication at this time. We welcome and appreciate any other submissions you'd like to make in the future. Thanks again, Harris.

A quick synopsis -

They accept, contingent on revisions ----- I make said revisions ----- they reject, based on said revisions.

The moral is obvious - don't buy Two With Water.

This actually reminds me when I wrote a book about Internet Dating (called "Don't Post A Picture If You're Ugly." - catchy, no?) at the behest of a small press publisher. When the book was just about done, they went out of business.

It's things like these that make me think that CBS won't show this afternoon.

Rock On,

Aitch

Greatest Hit

I still get e-mails about a piece I wrote a few years ago. In fact, I got one this morning.

For those of you new to my web log, here it is, prolly my best, at least my "most literary," piece of writing....

Confessions of a Serial Dater

Rock On,

Aitch

A Special Treat

As many (some?) of you may know, I'm writing a memoir.

As a special treat to you, my loyal (?) readers, here is an excerpt...

“Ohhh, okay, I’m sorry Mr.…”
“No need to apologize…”
“I thought…”
“I know.”
“…you wanted….”
“I know.”
“…it to be that size.”
“I know, but I just need a normal sized one.”

You're welcome!

Rock On,

Aitch

Because You Demanded It!

Here's an excerpt of the book I'm writing...

"'Hey, how’s it goin’?' asks the thirty-something year-old woman..."

You're Welcome

Rock On,

Aitch

'Twas the Night Before Christmas (On Elm Street)

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
not a creature was sleeping, surely not Timmy Strauss

His traps were all set; he laid them with care.
In case he couldn’t wake from his latest nightmare.

As tired as he was, he wouldn’t dare close his eyes.
But not why you’d think, nor why you’d surmise.

He snapped at the band he placed on his wrist.
The pain was so great, his hand made a fist.

His pulse was racing – sweat dotted his face.
He said all his prayers, and repeated them – post haste!

“What’s going on? Why the fear?” You inquire.
“This night should be joyous, but Timmy’s so dire!”

The reason is simple Tim’s shaken to the core.
His expected caller’s not of Ol’ Christmas lore.

As you may guess, this won’t come as a shock
Even Santa himself fears young Timmy’s block.

But that’s what you get when your mailbox comes complete,
With an inscription that reads – six sixty six Elm Street.

So pray for young Timmy that he survives the night
His mom’s just kissed him and turned off his light.

A long metallic screech Tim heard from the roof
He hides under covers not waiting for proof.

He curls in a ball with his teddy bear beside,
As he pictures the guy with the face that looks fried.

But a funny thing happened on this Christmas Eve
The sound faded off, Timmy was quite relieved.

He got out of bed and ran to the window –
to see a fat bearded man with eight ‘deer in tow.

Timmy laughed at his fears, as his heart stopped racing
He breathed in deeply, his worries, erasing.
But on turning around, in true horror fashion,
Freddy Krueger stared down, Timmy’s face turned ashen.

I’ll spare you the details, but ‘twas was not a pretty sight,
A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fright.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Day's Not Over Yet But....

So I decided to rededicate myself to writing my novel today.

So far, I've written -37 words. You read that right...

negative thirty-seven

I've erased stuff but haven't written anything new.

ack

rock on,

aitch