A year back, I read an article that stressed the importance of an author being as marketable as his book.

“What a pot of crap?” was my first reaction. “How about Stephen King? He did well for himself?”

And then I thought about the job they had done on Meyer, Rowling and Gilbert. Slowly, it sank in, fell on me like a heavy veil, that King was a rare exception of the past, as was Neil Young.

Voice in my head: “If ya wannit bad enough, ya gotta get out there and sell the living fuck out of it. And fuckin’ smile will ya. Ya gotta be a sterling brand ambassador for yer book y’know. And cut out them swear words while yer at it.”

Jay-Z said it best, “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man.”

The goal I’ve set for myself is to just get it done… to do this thing, and escape with my integrity intact. Some days I compare myself to the long legged lasses who parade around the boxing ring holding a number; except I’ll be holding my book instead of a square card, and my legs are not that long. I don’t like it, but sometimes, ya just gotta do yer rounds.

A pit of nervousness sits in my stomach right before this next interview about my book. I slow my breathing, ration my heartbeats.

“Let’s do this.”

My fingers were cemented together by the dried vomit. I turned on the tap, dipped into it, and wriggled my hand back to life. The food pieces eddied into the drain hole. This is the third time I’ve thrown up this week, this time on my lap, while driving. From fatigue I think. In this attempt to balance a full time job and promoting FUEL worldwide, I average about 4 hours of sleep these days. Honestly, I have no idea where the finish line is. I only know how far I’ve come…

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Yesterday, as I worked past the point of tiredness, I came upon a story of a man and a woman who had been married for 72 years, and it reminded me of this Love Sonnet.  I’d like to share that story with you.

Without the other, neither wanted to live, according the children of an elderly couple that died last week.

Gordon Yeager, 94, and his wife Norma, 90, were married for 72 years, reports LifeSiteNews. However, their life together ended Wednesday after they were both injured in a car crash. They arrived at a local hospital so badly hurt that officials saw hey could not recover, according to ABC news.

They were placed together in a bed, where they lay holding hands. Even then, says their son, Dennis Yeager, the couple’s concern was only for each other.

“She was saying her chest hurt and what’s wrong with Dad? Even laying there like that, she was worried about Dad,” he said. “And his back was hurting and he was asking about Mom.”

Gordon died at 3:38. But people in the room at the time say they were confused when Gordon stopped breathing, but his heart monitor continued to pick up a heartbeat. That was when they realized that the monitor was detecting Norma’s heartbeat, through their clasped hands.

“And we thought, ‘Oh my gosh, Mom’s heart is beating through him,’” Dennis Yeager said.

Norma died an hour later.

“Dad used to say that a woman is always worth waiting for,” Dennis Yeager said. “Dad waited an hour for her and held the door for her.”

Source: Beliefnet News

I was close to tears reading that story. The last few lines of Neruda’s Love Sonnet superimposed itself on the image of this dear couple, their hands locked as one. A line from another of Neruda’s sonnet’s entered my mind. It was a phrase I had used in Fuel, “By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two, together in their sleep will defeat the darkness.”

Unsure of who the special people in your life are? Ask yourself this question, “Who would I l like to spend my final moments with?” Jot their names down in your mind, and never again put anyone or anything ahead of them, not a screaming client or a nincompoop boss or the year’s most anticipated football game. I’m still young, and have not journeyed to the very end to know if I’m meting out good advice, but deep down, I know you will not regret doing this.

His email was actually a response to one I had sent him earlier. You see, whenever someone becomes a FUEL Facebook fan, I usually drop them a note to thank them. And if their FB profile image doesn’t look too stalker-like, I might tell them about myself and this journey I’m on.

This was the message I got back from Roby Ribaud:
Hi Jeremy, thanks for your message!!! This night i have a dream( not M.L King) but i see you in my dream!!!! One of my friend come in my house for a meeting and you was with him!!!!!!!!:-)) i never see you in this last day in Fb!!!! Ok it happened but this morning a find your message….right now some info on me. I have 2 babies and a wife , i was a big atlete in 400 mt one of best in europe , i was in the Olimpic Games of Los Angeles 1984 after i run to the top level for 15 years. Now i work strong ,i have 3 company and is a very hard moment you know about the crisis but this is our war!!!!! My hobby is read and when I saw your profile i was interest for your book and i wrote on my wall in Office your philosophy about dream and dreamer….i will buy your book now and i try to di this in internet also i want talk with my friend : he work in book company and i talk about you and your book.. That’ s it !!! I hope i can do some of good for our friendship!!! Thanks and god bless you! Roberto Ribaud

So alone I often feel. That I am but one against the world. The only one mounting the charge. And then a light flickers to life on the other side of the planet. And I am reminded that indeed I have sleeper cells all over the world, some more discreet than others, each fighting to help me keep this dream alive. Blip, blip… blip blip.

There is this guy I’ve been following for some time now through cyberspace, a chap by the name of Avram Gonzales. I think what drew me to him was how aligned his approach to life is to mine… although, he is way more radical, and has found more success living out his dreams. Me… I’m still clawing my way. Anyhow, Avram beat me to TedX… but I’m hot on his tracks… ok, ok, not that hot, may be luke warm on his tracks… oh alright, the trail has gone cold, but I promise you I’ll find my way.

Here’s a link to his video on his upcoming talk:
http://www.avramgonzales.com/tedx-crestmoor-park-2011/