I never thought I’d like going to the post office almost everyday. Well, I do now. I’ve gone “postal” up in here–and I’m loving it.
With a box full of 7 x 9 envelopes that TPC bought from Costco (came out to 27 cents per envelope!), my book fits in them perfectly, like a SELLOUT sleeping bag, nice and snug, the perfect bubblewrap bedding for shipment to any destination. From as close as San Diego–to where-the-hell-is-that spots in Australia–I’m more than happy to blast off copies of SELLOUT on some international rendezvous courtesy of the postal system.
It just feels good. Simple as that. Someone ordering an autographed copy of my first born gives me the chilly-willies inside. Smiling all hard, I pull out my ball-point pen, autograph the book (trying to be careful not to misspell or leave out a word), then slap on an adhesive label with the TPC logo on the envelope. Once I “Sharpie” the address and seal my baby inside, I take my happy butt down to the local USPS and send it off to its new home–hopefully to give someone as much joy as it has given me. So damn official!
And I don’t mind standing in long lines at the post office anymore, either. Why? Because I’m shipping my pride-and-joys to people who obviously like what I do from afar. And that’s a beautiful thing, for real.
My goal is to become on a first-name basis with every postal worker in the downtown office. I want them to say, “Hey, James, how many copies of SELLOUT are we sending today? Oh, by the way, I loved chapter five!”
Can’t wait for that moment.