This morning a package arrived containing the galleys of "Revenge of the Nerd", the memoir I've written to be published on July 11th. There was nothing shocking about it; I was expecting them. The cover was the same cover I've seen since approving it months ago. It was a first draft, so I instantly saw some things that have subsequently been fixed or corrected or cut altogether. The pictures have yet to be included. My book, but in little ways, not yet my book. Like a new house that looks perfect on the outside, but when you walk in the walls aren't finished. You automatically lower your voice as it echoes alarmingly because the carpets haven't been installed.

But there it was. Almost three years of work, which seems like a lot when you consider this is a memoir and I didn't even have to make any of it up. I have friends who write complex and multilayered novels in less time. Still, though, it is a first book. The one thing about the process so far that is exactly as I expected was how I felt at the moment I took the galley out of the box. The slightly bewildered sense of accomplishment that must accompany the act of any first-time author opening up a copy of his own book for the first time.

As I've said, my little Nerd Narrative escapes into print July 11th, 2017. I'm using this blog post--my first, ever!--to announce its' impending arrival. I will be making numerous appearances at various book stores and Nerd Cons to promote the little chap, reading a bit from one chapter or other--Revenge of the Nerds one day, Supernatural the next, Better Off Dead from time to time---and also answering questions from anyone kind enough to show up and interested enough to ask. The details of these appearances are still evolving, and will be posted on this very page the moment they are confirmed.

But sending out a helpless little memoir into this bleak and uncertain world gives me a feeling similar to the one I felt the time my wife and I put our daughter Lily on an airplane for the first time alone. She was totally fine with it. I was a fucking mess. I held it together long enough for the woman to walk her down the jetway until she vanished from sight and then I cried for about four hours.

Okay, the book release isn't THAT traumatic, but you can understand my concern. The thing about sending my daughter on a plane was, I knew that when she got to Detroit, my parents would be there to bundle her up in their arms and take her home. Feed her, tuck her up into bed. I'd know she was okay.

So basically, I'm asking you, dear reader, to do for me what my parents did. It would be a great relief to me to know that as I send "Revenge of the Nerd" out to an uncertain future, that there are some of you who will be, metaphorically, waiting at the end of the jetway with arms spread wide and big smiles on your faces. And then you can pick him up and take him home. He requires, unlike my daughter, almost no care. Just curl up with him somewhere in your house and let him babble at you. He loves to tell stories: indulge him.

And the thing is, while he doesn't actually arrive in your town until July 11th, he can be pre-ordered! Just like my parents did with my daughter!
www.curtisarmstrongbook.com is where you go for him and the sooner the better, or so the good folks at Thomas Dunne/St. Martin's Press inform me.

Future blogs will feature less overt schilling and more actual reminiscence. But thanks for reading. More anon!