ASKING FAVORS

A gold pen is shown writing the word "hello" in black cursive

Well, that was fun.

I think we've touched on the subject of the blurb in this space before. Those are the little comments on the book jacket encouraging you to give it a read. Preferably, someone you trust will provide that line or two of good juju. It will make you see the book in a new light and encourage you to pluck it from the shelf (or place it in your online cart, as things stand these days) and purchase it.

Here's the thing: authors need to ask other authors for the blurb. If you don't know that writer personally, it's the book writing equivalent of a cold call. Not everyone says yes. Also — and this needs to be noted — there is a caste system in the writing world. It takes balls to ask for a blurb from writers who are more intellectual or think a little differently.

We are at the blurb-seeking phase of the Taking London publication. It reminds me of that old Eric Carmen song, "All by Myself," recalling a time when "making love was just for fun, those days are gone." Back when I did my first book (twenty-five years ago, by the way), I was so new to the game that blurbs were just a matter of asking the one or two writers I knew. They always said yes.

But as the stakes raise, the science or art or whatever it might be, of requesting a blurb is more serious. It's also fun, in that I am reaching out to authors whose work I love. If nothing else, I get a chance to let them know that little old me thinks they write great stuff. This doesn't mean they will say yes but at least I know they will read my kind words. In no universe can I send a personal email to Bruce Springsteen telling him that “Badlands” is my anthem but I can get a letter to a fellow author.

Here's my admission: my writing is a little stiff when I do these requests. It feels like a violation of someone's personal space to receive a request from a stranger. I want to make sure they know I am being respectful.

Maybe it was that fourth cup of coffee, but I did something a little different this morning. My editor came up with a list of possible writers to chase for blurbs. Great list. Famous writers. People with integrity and talent. I mentioned to Jill that I had recently read and adored a book by one of those authors — so much so that I was tempted to reach out through his website to tell him my rather enthusiastic thoughts. But I did not do that. Why? Because I was chicken and also afraid of looking not cool. However, the amazing Jill suggested I write that letter now — while also asking for a blurb.

Wrote it this morning. Threw caution to the wind. Did not edit my enthusiasm. Said some heartfelt things about his excellent writing, knowing full well that every word was uncool.

Made my day. I have no idea whether or not that great writer will throw my request in the trash or just hit delete. There may not be a blurb. I don't care.

I'll have a handful of blurbs by the end of February. The art people will place them on the cover of Taking London for greatest dramatic effect. Taking London comes out June 11 — just in time to be your summer historical beach read. Not sure if I'll reveal the identity of that writer — OK, maybe just to those of you reading this blog. Someone remind me.

There's something really wonderful in telling someone that their work makes a difference in your life. So even at the risk of being a little foolish, it felt like the right thing to do.