When I was a kid, Sigmund Freud ruled the roost. Most people — at least
the adult people in the sorta-hip bourgeois Jewish world of my childhood
– were lying down on the Freudian couch. So were a lot of their kids.
At parties, the grownups would brag about their marvelous analyst or
regale one another with therapeutic insights.

It was in this climate that someone (my mother, maybe) told me that a
sinus attack represents unshed tears. In other words, you repress your
grief and you come down with sinus.

Now, last weekend I attended BookExpo America for three days. I
meet-and-greeted, oh, about a million people. Shook hands. Hugged.
Laughed. Coughed. Got coughed-upon. And as I walked off the floor of the
Washington DC Convention Center on Sunday, I was sniffling.

Next day, I was dying.

Ordinarily there isn’t much I can do about sinus. Antihistamines put me
to sleep, decongestants keep me awake and nose drops hurt. I just inhale
steam, put hot compresses on my forehead, do nasal irrigation if I can
stand it, and hope to be alive the next morning.

But this time was different. This was the Mother of All Sinus Attacks.

My wife Carol, who really gets annoyed when I whine, suggested I go to
the doctor. I didn’t even put up an argument, just dialed the phone. Six
hours later, I came home clutching a prescription for Avelox, an
antibiotic, and one or two hours after that, I started feeling better.

Does this disprove the Theory of Unshed Tears? Does it thereby
invalidate all of Freudian analysis? (It was down for a 9-count already.
Indeed, since Prozac, the rest of psychotherapy hasn’t been feeling so
hot either.)

Let’s not go there. Let’s merely say that there were no unshed tears as
a result of BEA, which I think will result in –

• Two new book reviews.
• Several more library appearances.
• Direct book sales. My Amazon rankings rose smartly after the show.
• Inclusion in the “white box,” a monthly mailing of new titles that
goes to all Booksense bookstores. The “white box” strongly influences
which books independent booksellers push. “It’s like getting a Christmas
present every month,” one told me.

Perhaps most important, BEA gave me a yardstick to measure how my novel
is doing. After 45 days, my publisher has orders for about half of the
first printing. I asked other publishers, Considering unknown-author/
small-press, is this good or bad? The consensus: It’s quite respectable.

So, no unshed tears. Take that, Siggie.

Frank S. Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. Baltimore this weekend! Come to the Barnes & Noble at Towson Town
Mall, 1 E. Joppa Rd., Towson MD, where I’ll be reading at 1 p.m.

If you’ve read my novel “To Love Mercy,” please take part in an informal survey:

Is this a kid’s book?

“Kid” could be anyone from fourth grade to high-school senior. Answer the question any way you like. Just hit “comments” (below) or email me directly at frank@tolovemercy.com.

Here’s where the question comes from:

When I was still looking for a publisher, people whom I met in the book business — agents, editors, publishers — wanted to classify “TLM” as a young-adult (”YA”) novel. As far as I could see, that was solely because it has kids as protagonists.

At that point I didn’t even know what the YA genre was. I learned it has some fairly narrow specifications (such as teen protagonists, word limit of 45,000) that TLM did not fit. Also, TLM is set in 1948, a long time before today’s teens were a gleam in anyone’s eye. The more I thought about it, the more I felt TLM actually was an “old adult” novel.

When it was accepted for publication at last, I felt bound to raise the issue with my publisher, Patrick Grace. His response: “Oh no, this is a boomer novel.” Close enough, I thought; Patrick has read the novel I actually wrote and he’s the publisher for me.

But when I started on the Chicago book tour last month, I discovered that young adults — kids, even — were responding to TLM, to wit:

• I hand-sold copies to two 8-year-olds who attended readings. “This book contains some, uh, naughty words,” I whispered to their moms. I suggested Mom might want to read it with Johnny.

• I hand-sold a copy to a teacher of a fourth-grade class of exceptional (read: smart) children. She planned to read it in class.

• Debbie Smart, the terrific assistant manager of Barnes & Noble in Arlington Heights IL and a staunch supporter, said the presence of kids on the cover suggests it’s a book for kids. So does the type size (it’s slightly larger than standard), she said. So does a line in the press release about ‘a book for all ages’; Debbie read that as code for ‘kid’s book.’ She is trying to persuade the Arlington Heights school district to adopt it for their summer reading list, bless her heart.

• At a B. Dalton in Riverside IL, TLM is shelved in a section of books apparently aimed at African-American teen-age girls.

Now, I think it’s great that kids would read and derive pleasure from my novel. I certainly think TLM is appropriate for any thoughtful high-school junior. But it’s filled with politically incorrect language and derogatory terms, including terms that are racist and anti-Semitic, and a few occurrences of a naughty word that starts with “F”.

The novel that inspired me in writing TLM was another novel filled with politically incorrect language and racist and derogatory terms. It’s called “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer’s Comrade)”, by one Samuel Clemens a/k/a Mark Twain. But even today, 122 years after “Huck” appeared, “Huck” is one of the most controversial books in print, regularly subject to bans and reading-list removals and protests.

I think “Huck” is the great American novel, a book that ought to be read by every high-schooler in America — by every person in America. But is it a “kid’s book”? If it were published today, would it be a YA?

Frank S. Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. I’m on TV tomorrow night! If you’re in Montgomery County MD, tune in Channel 16 at 8 p.m. Eastern. The show will be rebroadcast Tuesday, May 16, at 9 p.m. Eastern.

And on Saturday, May 13, you can meet me at 2 p.m. at the Barnes & Noble at 15455 Emerald Way, Bowie MD.

When I said the other day that everyone should WRITE a novel, I didn’t mean everyone should  attempt to PUBLISH a novel. They’re two different things. Oh boy, are they.

Writing a novel is a creative act. Publishing a novel is a business venture.

Some people responded that they can’t write. That won’t get in the way of WRITING your novel, but it could get in the way of PUBLISHING it. (But maybe not. Look at Tom Clancy.)

Some people thanked me for goosing them, and said they really wanted to get around to writing their life story some day. Well, fine. The only problem with writing your life story is that you aren’t making up your characters. (Oops again. James Frey. JT Leroy. Augusten Burroughs. Mmm.)

No, to clarify, the real reason for writing a novel — or any lengthy work of the imagination, like a play or screenplay — is that singular experience of pushing off from the dock with your characters and rowing out into the middle of the ocean. By the time you get back, you’ll know one another a lot better.

Frank S. Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. Don’t forget my Sunday appearance at “The Red House” in the town of Somerset where I live. Get there at 4 p.m. and enjoy light refreshments and shmoozing with the authors, followed by readings. The address:

4510 Cumberland Ave., Chevy Chase MD

Everyone should write a novel.

I’m not talking about a short story. I’m not talking about a journal. I’m not talking about letters or emails. I am talking about a lengthy work of the imagination. (Screenplay or play probably is OK too.)

When you write a novel (or play or screenplay), you create characters and situations that you will live with for a long time.

You may have an idea who and what they are when you start writing, but they will fool you. They will start taking on a life of their own almost immediately.

After a while, you will find yourself eager to start writing every day, just to find out where your characters will take you next.

Your characters may seem as different FROM you as night from day. But never forget: Your characters ARE you.

That’s why writing a lengthy work of the imagination is such a singular experience. It is a voyage of self-discovery like no other. Not like psychotherapy, not like a religious experience — unless, that is, you define playing God as a religious experience.

So, if you’ve ever wanted to play God but weren’t quite sure how to do it, now you know.

Frank S. Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. I’m appearing Sunday at 4 p.m. at “The Red House” right here in the town of Somerset. It’s “Local Author Night.” Please come. There will be light refreshments and shmoozing with the authors, followed by readings. The address:

4510 Cumberland Ave., Chevy Chase MD