Book tour horror story time.

In yesterday’s post, I asked if anyone had any book tour horror stories they’d like to share and was met with stony silence.

Perhaps I “buried my lead” by putting the prompt at the end. Or, perhaps you have never had the experience of reading at an event where only your mother and her best friend showed up. Good for you.

Either way, I have two stories I’d like to share. These are told from my experience as a publicist, rather than as a poet.  A few details have been modified to protect the innocent.

The Macaroon Dynamite
Once upon a time, a publicist booked a two-month tour for two authors going cross-country in a Winnebago. The Winnebago was called The Macaroon Dynamite. A week into the tour The Macaroon Dynamite crashed into another car in a parking lot and exploded. The tour was cancelled. No one was injured (except the publicist who had to cancel 30 book signings). The end.

The Tooth
Once upon a time, there was an author who was really huge in the 90s but not as huge in the 00s. He was excited to be attending a literary trade show in California where he would be promoting his new dinosaur-themed thriller. In his possession he had none other than a Tyranosaurus Rex tooth. A Tyranosaurus Rex tooth is the size of a modest cottage, or perhaps, a Cadillac Escalade. The author knew that a photo op with the tooth would be just the ticket to jumpstart his career. And yet–how to transport the tooth across the country? Luckily, in this day and age, there are folks who will do almost anything for money. The author hired one of these folks to transport the tooth by truck across the country and all was well.

The day of the tradeshow arrived and the author was excited. This was his time! (Well, perhaps, it was the tooth’s time.) Yet hours passed and there was no sign of the tooth. The author called the tooth transporter and the tooth transporter did not answer his cell phone. The author grew concerned. He called his publicist in a panic, as authors tend to do when teeth go missing. Luckily, his publicist was a crafty lass, who knew that Tyranosaurus Rex teeth don’t make their way across the country every day. If the tooth was stolen or harmed (or used for religious ritual) it would likely end up on the news at some point.

Sure enough, a Google search revealed that there had been an accident involving the tooth, the truck transporting the tooth and another car. Neither of the drivers nor the tooth were injured. But the tooth never made it to California either.

I think the author still hit the bestseller list anyway. Yay him. The end.