This is a little sad. My latest book,
Frankenstein Takes the Cake, was reviewed in the
New York Times Review of Books yesterday. Not the sad part yet. Wait for it. Sales of
Frankenstein received a small bump, insomuch as I could tell from the Amazon sales ranking (this is also not meant to be the sad part, though you may each of you appraise for yourself the existential sadness of checking one's own Amazon sales ranking). While I was checking the progress of this ranking, my wife noticed that among books, specifically literature and fiction, specifically poetry, specifically United States poetry, specifically 20th century United States poetry,
Frankenstein was currently the #2 seller.
Mine was the number two bestselling 20th century United States poetry book on Amazon.
There it is, right beneath former Poet Laureate of the United States Billy Collins.
Of course, the really funny (and also sad) thing here, is that my book wasn't even published in the 20th century. But then neither were the books before it or after it. That's Amazon for you.
5 comments:
In the words of Stephen Colbert... "COLLLIIINNNS!"
It's because you're loved, man … loved!
Poetry so good it spans eons of time gone byyyyyyyyyyy! (lots of reverb on the "by")
so close!!
That's it. That's all I needed to hear. NOW I will buy the new book.
That wasn't so hard was it?
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