Book Trailer The Noble Train

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Never Listen to a CD of your own Book

The CD of my books usually come a couple of weeks after they are published. It is kind of cool to see a miniaturized cover of the book on the case and you put it on the mantle and there it sits. The other day on my way to a speech I grabbed it for a ride up to the North Shore. The woman who read the book was fairly famous and very good. Her voice was melodic and soothing and the first six chapters flew by. But I noticed I was growing tired. My book Madam President The Secret Presidency of Edith Wilson has a lot going on and my brain was getting fatigued.  By the time I reached the venue I was intellectually exhausted.

So I arrive at the speech and set up the PowerPoint.  My speeches basically consist of me retelling the book but I had that women's symphonic voice still in my head and I wondered vaguely if I might mix her up with my recitation of the high points of the book. I was introduced and I went up and grabbed the microphone confidently and made a few wry comments about the book and I clicked up the first slide. It was a Bull Moose. 

Now when this happens you have a few seconds to find your footing. This slide should have been at the end and here it was at the beginning. So I clicked again. There was an old car. I still have that woman droning on somewhere in the early chapters of my book. I click again and see the sheep Edith Wilson bought for the Red Cross during World War I.  The PowerPoint had lost its mind and the lady was still reciting my book. 

I made my way back to the podium and put the microphone into the holder. Then I explained something about the PowerPoint not working and with the sheep still on the screen I started over and gave the presentation without the PowerPoint. By the time I reached the end people had forgotten about it and the speech was a success. But I didn't . I found out later that by importing the Powerpoint into the computer of the venue it had scrambled the slides. But I knew the real culprit.

When I reached my car I ripped the CD out of the player and put it back in the case. Never to be opened again.

Madam President The Secret Presidency of Edith Wilson

Books by William Hazelgrove