A mail call to remember

For the past few days, I’ve been waiting impatiently for the mail every afternoon, ever since my editor told me that my author’s copies of The Icon Thief were finally on their way. (The first printing is hot off the presses, and as the writer, I get twenty-five contractual copies, as well as a couple of bonus ones.) In the end, however, instead of the books, I got a postcard from UPS notifying me that the package had inexplicably been delivered to my old address. On Monday, then, I drove out in my Honda Fit, the official car of all tough suspense writers, to pick up my copies at the charming UPS Customer Service Center in Chicago, pictured here:

It may not have been the most romantic setting, but the books themselves are gorgeous. Obviously, I’m the last person in the world to regard them objectively, but to my eyes, they’re close to perfect: sleek, glossy, with just the right amount of heft in the reader’s hand, making them a real physical pleasure to read. The cover, in particular, with the title embossed in red, is beautifully printed. Over the past eighteen months, I’ve been impressed throughout by the level of attention and care that New American Library has put into every step of the process, and the result is a book that just plain looks like something that people would buy—right? Either way, in less than four weeks, we’ll find out.