Every human harbors a secret, desperate longing: to outlive the fleeting moment, to echo beyond our own existence. We strive for immortality in countless ways – through art, through ambition, through the legacies we build.
Some seek remembrance in grand gestures, in the halls of power or on fields of battle. Others dedicate themselves to teaching, to healing, to shaping the minds of future generations. The hope is that the impact of their lives will ripple outwards, long after they are gone.
Perhaps the most enduring path, the most universally accessible, is through family. To create a life that continues in another, to see a piece of yourself reflected in a child, is a powerful defiance of mortality. Even if our own contributions are modest, our children might achieve the extraordinary.
I, like many, attempt to leave a mark through writing. It’s a messy, often frustrating process, filled with moments of brilliance and agonizing self-doubt. There are drafts I’d gladly consign to the depths of a lake, along with the machine that birthed them.
Currently, a collection of my words exists as a physical object – 334 pages bound with a carefully considered cover. It’s been released into the world, and its fate is now beyond my control. It’s a strangely vulnerable position, akin to standing before the world with your defenses down.
Edna St. Vincent Millay captured this feeling perfectly: a good book is invincible, a bad book is beyond redemption. The judgment of readers is swift and absolute, and the outcome remains uncertain. The exposure feels… complete.
I’ve released books before, some embraced, others ignored. Sometimes, critical acclaim eluded a work that resonated with readers, while other times, popular success defied my own assessment of quality. The equation is baffling, unpredictable.
The landscape of book promotion has transformed dramatically since I began this journey in 1992. Newspapers once boasted robust sections dedicated to books, and publishers invested in extensive author tours. It was a world of plane tickets and in-person interviews.
A coveted appearance on a national broadcast could propel a book to bestseller status. Those opportunities, however, have become scarce. Recently, I’ve publicly criticized a particular network for what I perceive as the amplification of antisemitism, and it seems an invitation to discuss my work is unlikely.
Despite this, the book continues to find its audience, through phone interviews, virtual events, and the support of media outlets in Canada, Israel, and the United States. The era of grand book tours feels distant, replaced by a more intimate, digital connection.
But does this shift signify a decline in readership? Absolutely not. In fact, book sales in this country are thriving. Nearly a billion dollars worth of books were sold in 2022, and that number climbed to $1.15 billion in print sales alone just three years later.
Romance and children’s literature consistently perform well, and a significant portion of purchases are driven by personal enjoyment, with a notable percentage given as gifts. Importantly, independent bookstores remain a vital part of the ecosystem, accounting for roughly one in five sales.
Larger retailers also play a crucial role, contributing to a vibrant and diverse marketplace. Ultimately, the desire for stories, for knowledge, for connection, remains as strong as ever.
So, how do we cheat oblivion? Raise a family, scale a peak, create something beautiful, or perhaps… write a book. But even more powerfully, simply *read* one. Within those pages, you might just discover the secret to a life that transcends time.
