The Rewards of Being a Writer

I published John Lennon and the Mercy Street Café in 2007.  It's still in print and still sells.  It wasn't a blockbuster by any means, but it sold moderately over the years, and that was good enough for me.  It is a novel of magical realism in which John Lennon finds himself standing in Grand Central Station in the twenty-first century, unaware that he was assassinated.  The book had a profoundly metaphysical slant, and I always described it as a rock and roll Field of Dreams.  W. P. Kinsella brought back Shoeless Joe Jackson; I brought back John Lennon.

Over the years, I have received email from people who said that they either enjoyed the book or that it spoke to their hearts and inspired them in various ways.  The book also sold in Eastern Europe, where Beatlemania is still alive thanks to the fall of Communism.  The book was even required reading in a few college course in magical realism.  Cool, huh?

I didn't get rich from the book, but as I said in the previous post, I believe I was supposed to write the novel.  Something wanted to be said, and I was its instrument.  The fact that people found the book and emailed me to say that it meant something in their lives was very gratifying.  I file it under "nice work when you can get it."  Thanks to those who read my humble offering.

~ William Hammett

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