An interlude from the Mishigas (craziness in Yiddish) going on in the Philippines regarding the book importation duty scandal that I've been covering. Here's some lighter mishigas of the book tour gone South variety. Enjoy. Mary Elizabeth Williams writes:
I have a new book out, "Gimme Shelter" (Simon & Schuster, 2009) about my hilarious misadventures in the housing bubble. The very last scene takes place in the cafe in my new neighborhood in uptown NYC.
So I had the brilliant idea to talk to the owners about doing a reading there.
Short version: Readings should be done at bookstores.
Long version: After weeks of checking in to see if he got the books, the owner called me Easter Sunday -- the DAY BEFORE THE READING -- to say they weren't in yet. I told him to let me know if he didn't get them by noon the next day and I'd call the warehouse.
An hour and a half before the reading, I called the cafe to check on the shipment. They'd never received the books.
So I carted down two dozen of my own copies and my laptop. More on that later.
When I got there, I learned
a) the owner had listed the start time a half hour later than I had told everybody to come
b) there was one waitress on duty
c) the mic I'd been given was broken
d) the regular knitting group that meets there once a week was LIVID at sharing the space
A half hour off schedule, I got up and bellowed into my dead mic that I was doing a special "two for one" deal. Anyone who would order my book online would get an ab-so-lute-ly free signed copy on the spot. (Lemons, lemonade, etc.)
I then proceeded to read, above the nonstop din of the incredibly hostile yarn bitches, who aggressively insisted on talking loudly the whole. entire. time.
And my friend's dad, at a loss for a seat, stood in front of me throughout the whole thing.
On the upside, my stalker didn't show up.
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