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Down Where My Love Lives
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Sat, December 27, 2008
This week, Thomas Nelson is releasing “Down Where My Love Lives.” My first two-in-one. It includes my first novel, “The Dead Don’t Dance” (2003) and the sequel, “Maggie.” (2006). It’s hardcover.
Pictures from Italy
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Mon, October 27, 2008
Pictures from our Italian book tour.
The Untouchables
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Fri, October 03, 2008
I’ve had neck trouble and pain for years. Nothing you can really point to other than age and too many hits in football. On a daily basis I live with a pain level of about 6 (10 being really bad). Sometimes it ramps up to 9, and brings a migraine with it. Occasionally it’ll back down to 4 or 5. Oftentimes my right hand tingles. Umpteen x-rays and MRI’s have confirmed absolutely nothing. A little stenosis (tightening of the space around the nerve) and a little arthritis, loss of curvature, but nothing that you can put your finger on and say, “If we cut that out it will take your pain away.”
I Cried Today
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Thu, September 18, 2008
Atlanta. Spoke last night at the Margaret Mitchell House. (She wrote “Gone With the Wind.”) About a hundred people showed. I read from River and they asked questions for an hour. I’d been here before with Dance but that was six years ago and we had to pay to rent out the space. Guaranteed with a credit card. Times change. Last night we gave no credit card.
The Road
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Thu, August 28, 2008
Right now I’m reading Cormac McCarthy. He’s one of the great ones. It’s got me thinking about the road I’m on. So, in that vein, and for all those enamored with the glamour and starpower of a high-powered book tour, here’s a sample day on the road:
Hummingbirds Fighting Over My Feeder
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Thu, August 21, 2008
If you’re read “When Crickets Cry” then you might remember a scene in which a few hummingbirds were fighting over Doss’s feeder. It would have looked something like this:
Latest Page in My Scrapbook
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Mon, August 18, 2008
A week and a half ago, I walked into the Bay Street Trading Co. in Beaufort, South Carolina. To advertise my signing, Will, the store manager, had taped an 8x11 piece of paper to the door. It read, “New York Times Bestselling Author, Charles Martin, signing today at 3 p.m.”
Two hours later, as I was leaving, Will asked, “Can I get you anything for the road? Water? Coffee?”
I pointed at the door. “Could I have that sign?”
He laughed. “That’s all you want?”
I nodded. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen those words...next to my name.”
The Pulpwood Queens
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Thu, August 14, 2008
This week, my book tour brought me to Jefferson, Texas and the incomparable, Kathy Patrick. Kathy runs a hair salon called “Beauty and the Book” as well as a book club called, “The Pulpwood Queens.” It’s huge. More than 200 chapters around the world. And these people are serious about reading and their books. This month, they chose “Where the River Ends.” So, Christy and I flew to Texas where they made us honorary members. I’m still not sure how I feel about that. We had a great time. I took a few photos. Enjoy. If you hurry, you’ll see me in a wig.
The People I Meet…
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Fri, August 08, 2008
never fail to amaze me. Yesterday in Beaufort South Carolina, I met a woman who’s husband had been a trader on the 105th floor of the Towers. She was okay. Healing. Her daughter, too. A few minutes later, I met Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina. Signed a book for him. But, it was a guy I met in Highlands, North Carolina that has got me writing.
He was elderly, handsome, wearing a Miami Hurricanes baseball cap. His wife was holding his hand. I said, “You a Hurricane fan?”
He nodded and smiled.
They were both tanned. “You from Miami?”
He nodded again, “Yup, 84 years now. All except a small detour to Europe called World War II.”
“Really?” I took one step closer. I wanted to ask but I wasn’t quite sure how. “What...what did you do in the war?”
“Well, I landed at a place called Omaha Beach and from there we followed the 101st.”
That’s about when it struck me that I was standing next to one of the Great Ones. One of the guys that saved the world. I fumbled over myself. Didn’t know what else to say. “You...uh, ever been back.” I wanted to take it back. What a stupid thing to say.
“Yup...” He glanced past me. Several thousand miles down Main Street. “We go back every five years on the anniversary of D-Day. Alot of us do. Although that lot of us is getting smaller all the time.”
His wife tucked her arm inside his. “We’ve already bought our tickets.” She patted him on the shoulder. “He’ll be eighty-five.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. What could I say? How pathetic would I sound? I’m three feet from one of the heroes of history now dressed in wrinkly, spotted skin. “Sir...for what you did...for who your are...I thank you.”
He smiled and his eyes glassed over.
It’s the people I meet.
“The Sunday Telegraph” in London
Posted in The Kitchen Sink on Mon, August 04, 2008
Folks at the “Sunday Telegraph” asked me to write a piece about one of my favorite towns. I did. If you’ve read “Where the River Ends,” you might recognize it. Enjoy.