My first royalty check for Costly Grace will arrive soon. Whoopie! Someone in the universe beyond my circle of family, friends, and acquaintances is buying my book, and that’s gratifying. The check will be in the low three-digits, a galaxy away from Dan Brown’s orbit.
Earlier this week I had a book chat over sandwiches and sodas at a local senior center, the first of half-a-dozen author events on my Fall calendar. I signed books and enjoyed their plaudits about my descriptive language, interesting characters, and plot twists. I answered the expected questions: How long did it take you? How do you write? Where do you get your ideas? Are you writing another book?
A woman who knew me in a professional role before my retirement as a psychologist said she couldn’t stop wondering as she read, “Is this the Jim Allaire I know? Where does all this stuff come from?” She singled out my descriptions of women characters and my sleuth’s eye for feminine allures. Everyone laughed and I said it wasn’t me; it was my character Brian Kane’s trait. This led to a discussion of imagination and the role of the unconscious in creative writing.
Someone asked if I expected to “turn a profit” from book sales. My abrupt answer to her blunt question was, “No.” We then talked of motivation and the purpose of writing beyond fame and fortune. We segued to the sex abuse scandal in the Church that figures so prominently in the plot of Costly Grace. We agreed that fiction could sometimes portray truth better than non-fiction.
Royalties aside, payback for the writing effort is coming one reader at a time, mostly in ways unknown to me. I hope Costly Grace provides a good read of a good story, and for some readers, reflective moments about their own existence.