Exciting news. On Friday, The Scandal Plan got a rave mention on one of my favorite radio shows, KCRW’s Left, Right & Center.  Host Matt Miller called the book “a great fun summer political read,” and called me “a big new talent.”  Not too shabby, eh?  Click here to listen (the plug comes at the end of the show, at the 27 minute mark).

Barack got a slow start again tonight, but finished strong.  He was evasive during the question about Joe Plumber’s taxes, and McCain scored big points there.  In debate #3, John McCain finally managed to sustain a consistent message for the duration of the evening.  It certainly wasn’t original, but McCain’s classic “this liberal will spend all your money” attack was hammered home repeatedly throughout the 90 minutes with some success.  McCain may have gained a little ground tonight, though I doubt he gained much.

Obama started to come alive again once the question of negative campaigning was raised. Here he found his footing, and from this point on, the debate was all his. McCain seemed petulant, angry, cranky, and downright curmudgeonly, while Obama was Mr. Cool: eloquent, reasonable, and thoughtful.  Every attack of McCain’s after that first 30 minutes was effectively defused by Obama, while many of Obama’s attacks were rebutted with less skill.  Obama continued to be effective at addressing his answers to the middle class, looking deep into the camera’s eye, and oozing presidentiality.

I continue to be amazed by McCain’s obvious contempt for Obama.  He so clearly hates him with every fiber of his being.  At this point, I find myself watching and just wondering when John McCain’s head is going to spontaneously explode.  The Arizona senator has one of the world’s worst poker faces.  My wife has a better poker face, and trust me, you would love to play poker with my wife.  (On a side note, I’ve just realized that, as a married man, I can now tell “my wife” jokes.  Oh, I know someone in the next room who is going to be thrilled to find this out!)

On the whole, another fun night for us political junkies.  To put this in CNN speak: a red-meat night, all about Main Street, but no game-changers.  Ah, CNN, how I tire of thee …  And yet I continue to watch.

More soon, my friends …

I’ve included the text here:

I’ve been waiting for a good sex scandal all summer long. No, I’m not a voyeur or a pervert or a committed schadenfreudist—at least not any more than is socially acceptable—but I am a political satirist with a novel to sell, and as such, the financial and humanitarian sectors of my brain are frequently in conflict.

The Scandal Plan, or: How to Win the Presidency by Cheating On Your Wife, is—not surprisingly—about a sex scandal. A fake one. It’s the story of Senator Ben Phillips, a straight-laced, over-qualified, under-exciting Democratic presidential candidate in the tradition of Al Gore and John Kerry. He’s got great ideas, but you wouldn’t want to have a beer with him—and that’s why he’s getting killed in the polls. His campaign’s brilliant solution is to invent a sex scandal. Not a big one. Just a long-ago indiscretion that can be discovered: something the senator will have learned from, something he can bounce back from, something that can humanize him, something that might make him the tiniest bit cooler. Needless to say, nothing goes as planned.

To write a political satire is to be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is my story still relevant? What if Candidate X wins? What about Candidate Y? How does today’s news affect my story? Jon Stewart has it easy. He takes yesterday’s headlines and skewers them on tonight’s show. Guaranteed freshness. With my book, it took four and a half years for the original idea to travel from conception to publication – the satirical equivalent of firing a bullet into a time machine and crossing your fingers. I don’t recommend it.

The slow motion birth of this novel has often filled me with conflicting emotions, most notably in the wake of the 2004 election. I was crushed (crushed!) by John Kerry’s loss. But not completely. While I was convinced that another four years of George W. Bush would be devastating for the country (and the world), while this depressed me like nobody’s business, I couldn’t ignore that tiny guilty voice in my head that whispered: “This is really good for your book! This is confirmation of every argument you make! This means you have a real chance of being published!”

Such is the satirist’s dilemma: what’s good for business is usually bad for humanity.

Throughout this process, I’ve found comfort by telling myself that the underlying themes of my novel (our need to relate to our elected officials, our craving for redemption narratives, our preference for style over substance, the compromises we make in the name of ambition) are all fairly timeless. I also remind myself that this book is a fast-paced comic adventure first, and a satire second. The characters—a pubescent political reporter working for a teenybopper magazine, the campaign manager who has regular conversations with God, the over-sexed middle-aged bombshell who can’t find Mr. Right, the presidential candidate still hung up on high school, and the linguistically challenged Mexican chauffeur who thinks he’s James Bond—their appeal is not affected by the whims of the current news cycle.

Still, my eyes are glued to CNN. And when Hillary’s tears remind voters how important it is for a candidate to be perceived as “human,” or when John McCain is suspiciously linked to a female lobbyist on the front page of the New York Times, I view these events through the lens of my book.

That’s why I’ve been waiting for a sex scandal, and now I’ve finally got one. I was sad that it had to be John Edwards at the center of this particular spectacle because I had always liked him and his wife. But a sex scandal was a sex scandal, and attention had to be paid.

Was the Edwards situation a precise echo of the premise of my book? No. There were eerie parallels, to be sure, but differences as well. Never mind that; sometimes you must go to press with the scandal you have, not the scandal you want. That’s why, as soon as the John Edwards story hit the news, I e-mailed my publicist: “What can we do with this? Can this help us?” I frantically wrote an article for the Huffington Post relating the scandal to my book and offering pointers for future politicians on how to make the most of their own sex scandals.

Do I feel bad about trying to use the Edwards family’s embarrassment to try to shine a light on my book? Yes. Would I have done anything differently? No. Because even with a major publisher and great reviews, a political satire by a first-time novelist like myself does not have the luxury of an advertising budget. Such books are considered—surprise, surprise—too big a risk. That’s why I must take every opportunity I can get.

It remains to be seen whether the escapades of John Edwards will actually influence my book sales or whether any pundits or bloggers will pick up on the parallels and decide to give the subject their attention. Either way, I will remain absorbed by political news for the remainder of the 2008 election and beyond. Because I care passionately about the state of our country and our world. Because, above all else, I want what is best for humanity. And because the paperback version of The Scandal Plan comes out next June, and I want a bigger apartment.

It should be a fun time.  Tune in.

2pm EST. XM 130. Dig it

*******************ADDENDUM*******************
Wait.  Scratch that.  Just had the interview.  It was pre-recorded.  It will not air until tomorrow.  Monday between 7-9pm EST.

Monday night, I was “local boy made good” at the Easton Public Library, the most happening place in my quiet hometown. Bernadette, the head librarian, did a great job of spreading the word about my appearance and alerting the local media (I was on WICC radio on Friday and the front page of the Easton Courier on Thursday). For a book reading in a small town, we had a nice turnout, which included a friend I hadn’t seen since high school and a couple of my more magnificent middle school teachers. In attendance were the English teacher who encouraged my creative writing and the History teacher who encouraged my fascination with politics. It was nice to have them there.

I was in Thursday’s USA Today as part of their New Voices feature. You can read it here. It was kind of funny because the New Voices pieces are real short, but the interview was quite long, so I had no idea which three sentences of mine were going to be used. I also probably wouldn’t have pegged the excerpt they used as one of my more “memorable” quotes, but I suppose it does tell a bit of the story, so I understand why it was chosen. The main thing is that it’s an article in one of the planet’s largest newspapers, and that makes me quite happy.

Also, the Philadelphia Inquirer thinks my book is a great idea for a summer read. Frankly, I agree. You can read that article here.

I showed the children a copy of my book for Share (“show and tell”). I held the book up in front of them so they could see the cover and my picture, and I explained the title as best I could in a G-rated way (omitting the subtitle, of course). The children, who are learning to write themselves, seemed quite impressed and had a lot of questions for me.

“How long did it take you to write?”
“How many days did it take you to write?”
“How many hours did it take you?”
(there were a lot of time-related questions because they were most impressed by the sheer number of words I used to fill up so many pages)
“Why is the first letter of the chapter bigger?”
“Does it have any pictures?”
“Are those your shoes on the cover?”

and then, my favorite, referring to the sexy female legs on the cover:
“Is the woman in the red shoes your fiancée?”

Love it.

In other news, I was interviewed this morning by a charming woman from USA Today. Barring any celebrity suicides, I should be in the paper on Thursday as part of their New Voices feature.

One final note: Today I was inundated with wonderful congratulatory emails from friends in response to my mass emailing late last night. I’m too tired to even begin responding to them all, but please know (in case any of you are reading) that your good cheer found a happy recipient. And thank you.