I thought I was done with the Phil Spector story, the guns, the road littered with dead women, the Jewfro. But now this tidbit of book news from Media Bistro:

Spector Son’s Tell-All Surprisingly Not Titled “To Know Him Is To Love Him”

From Sharlene Martin of Martin Literary Management comes word of a memoir from Louis Spector, who was adopted (along with his twin brother) by legendary record producer Phil Spector when he was five; Spector then presented the siblings to his then-wife, Ronettes singer Veronica Bennett, as a Christmas present. The proposal, entitled The Gingerbread House on La Collina Drive.

I know, life is good.

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Dave Cullen’s book COLUMBINE hit the New York Times Bestseller List at #7. Did I ever say how much I love the number 7?

This was a book  ten years in the making, which is a nice way of saying more blood, sweat, and tears were spilled than I can ever recall. I hope the people whose lives were affected feel that they were well served.

Mostly I want to congratulate Dave; his persistence and compassion were the guiding lights of this project. I want to thank everyone at Twelve, who took on this challenging book in the 11th hour and published the hell out of it.

I guess I want to say, too, that in a Twittery world, this kind of book is starting to look like an endangered species. Even in the olden days, few writers could or would devote ten years to a project outside of the academy. Believe me, there were many junctures when I wanted to tear my hair out:  missed deadlines, long silences, outsized drafts etc. etc., but I am so proud that I got to be a part of it. When people ask what makes working in publishing worth it — this.

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Heather B. Armstrong’s memoir jumped on to the NYT bestseller list its first week on sale. Man, am I happy. Even our dog noticed what a good mood I was in and roped me into something like 4,000 throws of the aqua blue sheep toy. Heather’s on the road doing readings, huge crowds, due in large part to the enormous popularity of her blog, Dooce.com which is about marriage and motherhood, or poop and boobs. I understand some women at the readings have asked to have their pregnant stomachs autographed (reminds me of my high school neighbor who got her fifteen year old butt signed by Bob Weir), many are bearing gifts, taking pictures with Heather. It’s really amazing how you can develop a loyal readership through blogging. Ahem. Anyway, her book is called, IT SUCKED AND THEN I CRIED. It’s hilarious and then you cry. Highly recommended.

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Big, huge, exciting news: As of tomorrow or the next day, I will have a new blog site. I know you will miss the jejune photograph of me circa kindergarten. And the blocky hard to read type. I will, too. But this young woman named Hilary who lives in Detroit helped me create a better blog and it’s just way better. (That was a plug for Hilary if you need website help — I’ll give you her email.) Look out for the new site, let me know what you think. And thanks for reading.

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Every year, Publisher’s Weekly posts sales figures for the year’s top sellers. I always comb the lists and find myself either pleasantly surprised or dumbfounded as in: wow, that great book sold many more copies than I would have thought, or, I can’t believe that piece of crap sold that many copies.

This year in the dumbfounded column:

The Last Lecture (#1 top seller): I knew this was a huge bestseller but I would have never guessed that it sold 4,388,137 copies. I know the author wrote this as he was dying and that people the world over find it beautiful and moving, but have you read it? It should have been called Are You Smarter Than a Stupid First Grader. Sorry, but I can’t take inspiration of any kind.

Gladwell’s Outliers sold 821,721. I would have thought he tipped the million mark. Wah!

Dewey (aka cat crap): 758,931.

A book called What’s Your Poo Telling You sold 161,000. No comment. Oh wait, shhh, my poo is trying to tell me something.

James Frey’s novel, Bright Shiney Asshole, sold 125,380. Oops, I think it’s called Bright Shiney Day.

Life with My Sister Madonna by Christopher Ciccone, who I believe is her brother, sold 235,000. Material Girl!

Michael Phelps No Limits sold 200,000. Not sure if that was before or after he was caught bogarting the bong.

Jessica Seinfeld’s Deceptively Delicious sold 156,000. Have you ever tried hiding a yam in chocolate pudding?

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First week back from vacation and a lot of good news: a blocked writer becomes unblocked, a dazzling new chapter from a memoir in progress, a revision on a proposal sings, a great meeting with a new film agent, entertaining lunch with a major magazine editor, some checks arrived, a contract negotiation down to one small point, three fantastic new titles launching. Like that.

The challenge: how can Betsy Lerner negate all this great stuff and find a way to feel crappy about herself and the industry. C’mon, give me something hard.

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Just got back from Heather Armstrong’s B&N reading for the launch of her book, It Sucked, And Then I Cried. It was SRO and she sold every last copy they had in the store. Amazing to see her fans come out, buy multiple copies, take pictures with Heather. Rock star! If you don’t know her website, Dooce.com, check it out. She’s been doing it since 2001 and there’s a reason she’s won every blog award and is in every top ten list. Yes, she’s gorgeous. Yes, she’s savvy. Yes, the site is to die for. But it’s something else. She writes like a bat out of Utah.

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