by Mick Foley, author of Tietam Brown
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Just one day to go. Just one day before the big one, the whole ball of wax, all of the peanuts, the big enchilada- the release of Tietam Brown. One of the biggest days of my life to tell the honest truth. Who Knows? The world may be completely willing to embrace a first novel by a man best known for a tooth stuck in his nose. Or they might reject it like Test, the bodyguard-for-Motley Crue-character that used to follow the nations airwaves a few short years ago.*
I returned from England a few days ago—July 4th to be exact. I had hoped to escape from political questions while I was there seeing as how the career of the Dixie Chicks was nearly derailed based on political comments lead singer Natalie Maines dared to in England As it turned out, I was unscathed. Even though I was invited onto some prestigious literary shows, no one really asked about my political opinions.
Those prestigious literary shows, as it turned out, loved the book. And that made it a whole lot easier for the mainstream media to embrace it. Hopefully, someone with some pull in the literary community will step up to the plate and say, "Hey, check this book out." I think all it takes is one. Maybe IÕll get lucky and Katie Couric will write my ticket to literary acceptance when I am on The Today Show tomorrow. Or, at least, I'll be able to stare at her like I'm a ten year old with his first crush, and think how cool it is to be asked back for a third time.
I signed books for a couple of famous people while I was in the U.K. As some of you might have heard, Hillary Clinton published her first book recently, and was in the U.K. promoting it at the same time I was gratuitously plugging Tietam, "which will be available in bookstores everywhere on July 8th." As it turned out, President Clinton was in town as well, and Tietam was highly recommended to him, by my U.K. publisher, who is a personal friend of his. Therefore, on my last day in England, I found myself inscribing a book to him—and to Daniel Radcliffe of "Harry Potter" fame!
"And then...," to quote Bill Murray's character in Stripes, "depression set in."
I just received the news. Katie's out, Lauer's in. Why? I don't know, but the little conspiracy theorist inside me thinks she must have read my "Reflections on Katie" chapter of Foley is Good and opted out. Well, I guess I'll just have to gut it out.
This book is a huge deal for me. This tour is a huge deal for me, 25 cities in all, and I am hoping for the best. The three in England all went extremely well. New York is next. July 9th. Hope to see some of you there.
Sincerely,
Mick
* Test: A wrestler who first debuted with the WWF at Sunday Night Heat in October of 1998 as a roadie for Motley Crue. His act was not well received.
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I grew up listening to ABC's Wide World of Sports herald "the thrill of victory and the glory of defeat." I can still hear the music, and see that poor S.O.B. tumbling down the mountain as Jim MacKay said those classic words. Today, I got to live them.
In a much smaller, comparatively trivial sense, I had lived them yesterday when my dreams of Katie Couric were dashed by the harsh realities of Matt Lauer. Actually Matt was extremely cool in our interview. He seemed genuinely interested in our interview, which by all accounts—or at least all accounts I heard—went really well. We even talked a little bit off camera about our shared interest in Civil War battlefields. Matt also pointed out that Katie's late husband had been a Civil War buff.
I hope the Today interview will create some interest among non-wrestling fans, but more importantly, will not cause fans of the hardcore legend to jump en-masse off the Foley ship due to the not so hardcore threads I sported during the segment. I doubt it. I've always maintained that the wresting fans would support my foray into fiction, and even a sports coat and tie, just as long as I leave the teeth and ear alone.
On my way out of the studio, I did manage to get my photo taken with Katie who wished me well with the book, and said that the Foley tribute at the Garden was one of the most touching things she'd seen in her 20 years as a wrestling fan. O.K. so I made that part up. But she did wish me well, and I will try to get the Foley-Couric photo up on the site in a few days.
I was also fairly pleased with the piece in today's U.S.A. Today. I do wish that in referencing the "mixed reviews" they would have gone with a quote from a positive review, instead of the luke warm one from Publishers Weekly. Based on that reviews ten or so wrestling metaphors and plays on words, I feel that person never got over the fact that I used to wrestle for a living. Hopefully, most reviewers won't let their personal biases cloud their judgment. All in all however, I thought was a good piece, and like the Today Show interview, hope it will shine a light on Tietam Brown.
And then.... depression set in. Just like yesterday! But unlike yesterday, this news will take a little longer to recover from.
I was in the Knopf offices this afternoon, and when I checked my messages I learned there was an urgent one from the W.W.E. My publicist asked me what I thought they wanted.
"I don't know," I said, "Maybe they're in a jam for Summerslam and want me to wrestle."
To tell the truth, my heart was beating a little fast at the prospect of such an offer. I was excited about a potential match, but also afraid that I'd be woefully unprepared for such a big event, as shaping up during a 25-city book tour would probably be damn near impossible.
"Hello Lynn, this is Cactus." Lynn Brent, one of the heads of talent relations, has known me since my days in World Class Championship Wrestling, and is one of the world's only people who still refer to me as "Cactus." "Yeah Lynn I got the message asking me to call you as soon as possible." I waited anxiously for the big offer.
"Cactus, I don't know how to tell you this but your house burned down."
Fortunately no one was home, as the house she spoke of was in Florida, where we had moved from a while ago. But still, as the I think about the house and all the special memories it holds for us—Christmas mornings, Smackdown nights, marathon writing sessions at the kitchen table, even grueling attempts at conceiving Mick Jr. —I do so with an aching in my heart, The years I spent there were some of the best ones of my life.
Matt Lauer, Katie Couric, U.S.A. today.... the thrill of victory. Four years of memories up in smoke.... You get it, right?
Hope to see some you tomorrow night,
Mick
If I had to pick just one word to describe myself, it would be... tired. In 2001, I wrote Foley Is Good. Tonight's journal entry will be a sequel of sorts... Foley Is Tired.
I'm on an Amtrak train as I write this, heading North from Washington D.C. to New York City. By the time I get home, it will be somewhere around 4am. By that time Foley will be really really tired.
Don't get me wrong. I'm having fun, and the days themselves seem to fly by. But putting together a group of 17-hour workdays catches up with a guy, even if those 17-hour days are mostly comprised of talking. I made a little pact with myself that I wouldn't repeat the same story twice during the promotion of Tietam Brown. I haven't been able to stick to it completely, but I've come pretty damn close. The last thing I want to do is sound like a politician on the campaign trail, hitting voters with the same old stump speech at every stop. Unfortunately, however, I was too busy to pick out new passages to read from my book, so the people who turned out at the bookstores in New York and D.C. heard the same ones.
Book readings are a whole new world for me. In the past I just showed up and signed my name. Personally, I wouldn't wait in line to meet Mick Foley, but apparently a whole lot of fans have felt differently. Which leads me to think that if someone out there doesn't have my autograph they haven't tried all that hard.
I always thought the whole concept of showing up to hear someone read to be a little strange. But then again, a lot of people ltuned in to the State of the Union speech to watch President Bush read.
FYI... wait a second, I can't stand those little abbreviations. For Your Information: we've just arrived in Baltimore, home of Joey Maggs.
Anyway, I dreaded the thought of fans showing up just to hear me read. So, therefore, before I set out on this trip, I decided to spice it up a little for the prospective buyer. Let's just pretend for a second that I'm Mick Jagger, and that I've got a new solo album out. Sure, I want fans to buy the new album, but I've got to accept that if I don't sing some classic Stones songs, I'm going to disappoint a lot of fans.
Okay, stop pretending now. I will too, even if I did enjoy the idea of spending Jagger's cash, and getting to know Jerry Hall a lot better.
Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I fully understand that most peple at these book signings/readings are wrestling fans first and literary fans second and that I should treat these dates accordingly. So yes, I do read the boook a little bit, but I also make sure to borrow liberally from "Foley's Greatest Hits"! Who knows, one day soon, I may break out "The Legend of the Penis Suplex."
The train trip from New York to D. C. took two hours. The return trip is four and a half. Lots of stops, and we go slow as hell. I'm still in Baltimore, home of Joey Maggs.
I'm listening to a great CD, "Ramble Rose," by Tift Merrett. Beautiful, haunting country music. Which means it doesn't stand a chance of getting played on country music radio. The disc is a gift from the one and only "Mad Dog" tiesson, who has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what I like to hear, and who, it turns out, reall has known Emmylou Harris for thirty years. She vouched for him.
I point this out mainly because I see such a parallel between the music business and the book business. The wrestling business too, for that matter. So much of what is popular seems to be so damn similar. Variety may be be the spice of life, but it doesn't seem to sell too many units. Tift Merritt may sing beautiful songs, but what kind of a shot does she have in a world where "Jenny from the Block" rules the airwaves.
When I broke into the world of pro-wrestling back in 1985, the bodybuilder look was all the rage. I guess to some extent, it still is. Back then, being the "tall kid" with the bad body didn't bode well for my chances at stardom. Fortunately, after eleven years, much hearbreak and physical ache, Vince McMahon took a chance on me, and the rest is a matter of wrestling history.
Tietam Brown is not a typical novel. It doesn't fit neatly into a genre or style, and it very easily could have been passed over or relegated to obscurity as many great books have been. Luckily, a few important people believed in it, and it has been give a chance to get some airplay. I'm lucky. I know it, and I'm thankful.
Just a note to prospective Tietam Brown buyers: The mob scenes that were a part of Have a Nice Day and Foley Is Good tours have in large part faded away. A couple hundred fans seems to be the norm. Which means there's no reason to show up ridiculously early and that I will usually have time to personalize books, and tell an Al Snow joke or two while I'm at it.
Just in case I'm wrong, and the book signing you go to is, indeed, a mob scene--everyone gets their book signed.
Finally... the train just pulled out of Baltimore, home of Joey Maggs.
5:30am
Just got home. Two hours later than expected
--Mick
Six down, nineteen left to go. Big book signing in Atlanta, Georgia my home from the fall of 1991, until the fall of 1997. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to check out any old haunts or see any familiar faces, not including Dove, the ford with a thousand wrestling magazines in his trunk, or John, the aspiring wrestler who shot about five rolls of film of Foley in action last night. Lots of pictures of me writing, and writing, and well writing. One fan taped the proceedings. How dull must that guy's life be to actually sit back and watch a tape of a big ugly guy writing?
I did get a chance to catch up with a buddy of mine from my old junior high school days. Back when our basketball team was 0-11, and I was the squad's second leading scorer with a grand total of 3 points per game. On many occasions I have told my son about that legendary team, and how that winless season was the most fun I have ever had in organized sports. On each occasion, he's looked at me like I was weirdo. "What? Losing? Fun?" Hey kid, don't knock losing--it's what bought the house you live in and all those outrageously priced clothes.
The day started at 6:00 am and concluded at 10:00 pm, continuing my streak of 16 days. I got in just in time to see the last three innings of the baseball all-star game. A great game. Some people have knocked the game field advantage stipulation attached to the game, but I certainly got the feeling the guys were playing to win, and that the game was more important once again.
By the way--the next Foley novel, tentatively titled Scoalec , which will probably be available next spring or summer has an underlying baseball theme to it.
See you on the road
Mick
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Another long day. Fun and positive, but long nonetheless. I had to leave my Atlanta hotel and 3:30 am to catch the plane to Pittsburgh. The day ended at 10:30 pm, at which time I planned on sleeping until 3:00 am, to start the 300 mile drive to Philadelphia for another full day of work. Unfortunately I'm not one of those guys who can fall asleep at will, so I just lay in bed until 2:00, and then took off for the City of Brotherly Love--an ironic name for a city which doesnÕt seem to have a lot of love in it.
After all, it was the home for the ECW, not an entirely love themed promotion, and even today seems more than its share of non-love related acts inside the ring.
Pittsburgh was fun though. I had an especially good time on The Lynn Cullen Show, a popular radio talk show. We didnÕt talk much politics, but she loved the book, and the two of us hit it off as if we were old friends. Maybe, just maybe, it will send a couple of non-wrestling fans to the bookstores.
I tried doing something new at the book signing. Not just new for me, but new for the entire book reading/author industry. As I mentioned a few days ago, I dread the idea of showing up in different cities with the same speech, like Billy Ginn back in his prime even if I probably wasnÕt going to use the phrase "suck it" in my speeches. So, in Pittsburgh, I let fans open the book randomly, and I would read that random scene and explain how it was inspired or thought of. Pretty revolutionary, huh? In time, when other authors catch on to it, maybe it will come to be known as the "Foley Method." Maybe not as much fun as the "Rhythm Method," but fun nonetheless.
Mick
Life, I think is ultimately about making choices. The choices we make are perhaps the greatest reflection of just who we are as individuals. Wasn't it Rush singer Geddy Lee who so boldly stated, "If you choose not to decide you still have made a choice "? I guess the Cannabis Maryland crop must have been especially potent that year.
Today, just a few brief minutes ago, in fact--I made a choice. A bold choice. A choice that indeed may serve as a reflection of just what type of man I am. As you might have concluded by simply looking at the time elapsed between my journal entries, my daily tour diary might be more accurately described as a weekly tour diary, or perhaps even a whenever-the-hell-I-feel-like-it tour diary. The truth is, I haven't really felt like doing it latelyÉ soÉ I haven't. Until now.
You see, earlier today I drove from Cleveland, Ohio, home of Gund Arena, to Dayton, Ohio, h9ome of the Erin J. Nutter Center, a distance of some 220 miles. In order to arrive at the "Banks and Company" bookshop by 11am for a scheduled radio interview, I had to depart Cleveland roughly at 6am. Actually, the departing wasn't all that rough, kind of easy really. I made the trip in good time, and arrived early enough to find Ohio resident Al Snow hanging up flyers for his newly released Wit and Wisdom of Al Snow, autobiography/four-page leaflet. After finishing my 11am interview I found myself facing quite a dilemma. I had an hour and a half before my next appointment, a taped interview with the local NBC television news affiliate. How would I spend the time? Reading? Tearing down Al's flyers. Then, it hit me. The guym. Yeah. I'd have plenty of time. I could drive downtown, change, stretch, do extensive cardio, work out, shower, change, and then drive back with probably an hour to spare.
It was time to make a choice: get in the workout my body so desperately needs, or do my dairy. I hope you enjoyed the fruits of my choice.
--Mick
P.S. I just received confirmation of a rumor I'd long suspected. The Nutter Center was originally planned as a joint venture, in conjunction with Erwin J. Nutter. Unfortunately, a disappointing marshmallow crop forced Alfred A. Fluffer to withdraw from the arrangement.
"If you build it, he will come." Many of you will no doubt fondly remember those words from the baseball movie "Field of Dreams," in which Kevin Costner builds a baseball field in his Iowa farm, confident that the long deceased "Shoeless" Joe Jacks will show up to take some swings. Many of you, no doubt, will also not so fondly remember Costner in "Waterworld" as a half-fish, half-man who drinks his own urine.
I just picked up the book on which "Field of Dreams" is based, Shoeless Joe, by W. P. Kinsella. Really good, so far.
"If you promote it, they will come." That seems to be the motif of this book tour. I've been doing my very best to promote the book, as have my friends at Alfred A. Knopf, and indeed, people have been coming. They certainly did come to Cincinatti. About 660 of them came--our biggest event turnout of the tour! Why Cincinatti? Why not a huge city like Philadelphia, where only 150 showed up? Why not the biggest of them all, New York, where we had right around 200? The answer? Promotion. The local UPN affiliate advertised on "Smackdown" appealing directly to the wrestling fans, and the results were obvious.
I asked the owner of the station if doing so hadn't cost him some money. "Sure," he said. But w're promoting the station, we're promoting you, and we're making our fans happy." I took his business card, and asked him if he might like to make some calls to fellow station owners to offer them the same opinion.
I drove the 390 miles from Cincinatti to St. Louis after the signing. I listened to some great tunes, and pout some serious thought into doing a match at Wrestlemania XX. I stopped halfway at Holiday World in Santa Claus, Indiana to catch some rides on their two incredible coasters, "The Legend," and "The Racer." Riding with wrestling fans is such a thrill. It makes me feel like a little less of a loser, and the fans seem to love it. For some reason, a coaster is just a little more fun when there's a big, one-eared sweaty guy next to you.
Until next time,
Mick
P.S. Message to Vince, concerning Foley at Mania. If you promote, they will come.
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