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Bag of Bones :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 39 из 425Weinstock called a lot that winter, mostly with good news. in March she reported that Helen’s Promise had been picked as one the Literary Guild’s main selection for August, the other half a legal thriller by Steve Martini, another veteran of the eight-tosegment of the 5’mes bestseller list. And my British publisher, loved Helen, was sure it would be my “breakthrough book.” ’ British sales had always lagged.)…Promise is sort of a new direction for you,” Debra said. “Wouldn’t you kind of thought it was,” I confessed, and wondered how Debbie respond if I told her my new-direction book had been written a dozen years ago.
il’it’s got… I don’t know… a kind of maturity.”
I think the connection’s going. You sound muffled.” I did. I was biting down on the side of my hand to keep from with laughter. Now, cautiously, I took it out of my mouth and. bite-marks. “Better?” lots. So what’s the new one about? Give me a hint.” know the answer to that one, kiddo.”
“"You’ll have to read the book to find out, Josephine,’”
“Right?”
“Yessum.”
“Well, keep it coming. Your pals at Putnam are crazy about the way you’re taking it to the next level.” I said goodbye, I hung up the telephone, and then I laughed wildly for about ten minutes. Laughed until I was crying. That’s me, though. Always taking it to the next level.
During this period I also agreed to do a phone interview with a Newsweek writer who was putting together a piece on The New American Gothic (whatever that was, other than a phrase which might sell a few magazines), and to sit for a Publishers lekly interview which would appear just before publication of Helen’s Promise. I agreed to these because they both sounded softball, the sort of interviews you could do over the phone while you read your mail. And Debra was delighted because I ordinarily say no to all the publicity. I hate that part of the job and always have, especially the hell of the live TV chat-show, where nobody’s ever read your goddam book and the first question is always “Where in the world do you get those wacky ideas?” The publicity process is like going to a sushi bar where you’re the sushi, and it was great to get past it this time with the feeling that I’d been able to give Debra some good news she could take to her bosses. “Yes,” she could say, “he’s still being a booger about publicity, but I got him to do a couple of things.” All through this my dreams of Sara Laughs were going on—not every night but every second or third night, with me never thinking of them in the daytime.
il’it’s got… I don’t know… a kind of maturity.”
I think the connection’s going. You sound muffled.” I did. I was biting down on the side of my hand to keep from with laughter. Now, cautiously, I took it out of my mouth and. bite-marks. “Better?” lots. So what’s the new one about? Give me a hint.” know the answer to that one, kiddo.”
“"You’ll have to read the book to find out, Josephine,’”
“Right?”
“Yessum.”
“Well, keep it coming. Your pals at Putnam are crazy about the way you’re taking it to the next level.” I said goodbye, I hung up the telephone, and then I laughed wildly for about ten minutes. Laughed until I was crying. That’s me, though. Always taking it to the next level.
During this period I also agreed to do a phone interview with a Newsweek writer who was putting together a piece on The New American Gothic (whatever that was, other than a phrase which might sell a few magazines), and to sit for a Publishers lekly interview which would appear just before publication of Helen’s Promise. I agreed to these because they both sounded softball, the sort of interviews you could do over the phone while you read your mail. And Debra was delighted because I ordinarily say no to all the publicity. I hate that part of the job and always have, especially the hell of the live TV chat-show, where nobody’s ever read your goddam book and the first question is always “Where in the world do you get those wacky ideas?” The publicity process is like going to a sushi bar where you’re the sushi, and it was great to get past it this time with the feeling that I’d been able to give Debra some good news she could take to her bosses. “Yes,” she could say, “he’s still being a booger about publicity, but I got him to do a couple of things.” All through this my dreams of Sara Laughs were going on—not every night but every second or third night, with me never thinking of them in the daytime.