I’ve added a new category–self promotion. It was inevitable. I’m curious why the prospect of writing about myself or on behalf of myself is still difficult at this ripe age. I experience a little bloom of cowardice about exposing myself. Is it some sort of false modesty? The word “shameless” has now been attached to the term to give it a bit of levity. I find myself more keyed to the words root “shame.” In any case, I have a new book coming out which always brings this problem front and center. The galley came this week and I am very happy with it. The publisher did a lovely job. And I had my first conversation with my new publicist who was sharp, and very enthusiastic about the book. She suggested that since the novel is set in contemporary Minneapolis and St. Paul that I go off and take photos of a few spots around the cities where scenes take place. They’d drop a few photos with relevant excerpts into the publicity packet. So obediently I set off to Minneapolis yesterday in the middle of a blustery winter day–despite the fact that it’s mid April–and took photos of Shorty & Wags, a BBQ joint in south Minneapolis where my character Augie procures a twenty-four pack of wings, a half pound of chicken gizzards, and a couple pints of collard greens. Two or three nights of dinner which my man manages to eat in one night. After taking photos yesterday, I simply ordered a pint of greens. Then I drove over to the Walker Art Center and climbed up to the lovely bridge that crosses countless lanes of traffic to Loring Park. An early scene in the book takes place on the bridge, which Augie calls the Armajani, after the architect. “I spent a lot of time on the bridge,” he says, “after the I-35 bridge fell. I figured the best way to contemplate the collapse of one bridge is to stand in the middle of another.” 
Finally, after the wind ripped through me and my winter coat, I headed over to Garrison Keillor’s bookstore in St. Paul, not far from where I live. Garrison’s good store is referenced in the book a couple of times. Augie had noted a bit of the owner’s self promotion, saying: “Garrison had a desk down there withe a sign pinned to it that named the books he’d written on it and the various typewriters he used. It was almost as good as being at the John Steinbeck museum in Salinas. I took a photo of the sign. So there I was, in the midst of my self promotion, capturing his. It’s self promotion as a hall of mirrors.
