Different Pitches for My Book to Different People in my Life
It's the job of a salesman to meet people where they are.
I’m getting incredibly pumped for my unconventional book launch on April 11th at 7:30pm at the Skirball Center in Los Angeles. Reservations are free, and there will be trees, comedy, poetry, a pinecone charity auction, dramatic readings, and I’ll be signing all periodic tables of pinecones (everyone gets one) and books. You can reserve below, and you can also buy your book through the Skirball Museum store if you’d like me to sign it that very evening:
Now, to make sure that everyone actually reads Must Love Trees: An Unconventional Guide, I’ve been employing a personalized pitch for each kind of person in my life:
To my tree friends: a comedy book about trees.
To my writer friends: a book about trees written by a sociopath.
To my influencer friends: a book where trees are grouped by vibes.
To my Jewish friends: A Talmud-adjacent romp through the Eden of Hashem.
To my Gentile friends: A 216-page indictment of the Eastern Redbud, aka the “Judas Tree.”
To my atheist friends: A satire of the core narrative hook of organized religion: anthropomorphizing the natural world.
To my edgy friends: “I was going to call this book This Tree F****, but received pushback from my publisher.”
To my friends with three kids who go to bed at 8:30pm: “I wanted something wholesome that the whole family could enjoy, so I titled it Must Love Trees.”
To my fake friends: “I included a lot of personal information that could be held against me some day. Not that anyone would do that.”
To my ex-contractor: “Hope you enjoy the description of the inept arborist on page 54.”
To my ex-stepdad: “I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but I think our trip to Nolde Forest State Park was really cool. I kinda get into it on page 54.”
To my ex-girlfriend: “You might find page 54…interesting.”
To my two year-old: A book that Daddy wrote and Blippy loves.
To three day-old: A physical item that shares several chemical elements with colostrum.
To my wife: “A book that you actually wrote and I’m just putting my name on. Ha, ha. But no, it’s actually true—I don’t know what I am without you, and I had to know who I was in order to write this. It’s crazy, isn’t it? How we think we’re the authors of our own story? But there’s really there’s a thousand hands at work here: mixing the dough, kneading the dough, helping it rise. Shaping it. Lending their heat. Adding spice. I’d be such a foolish creature to think I made the bread myself. Anyway, don’t bother reading this: it’s full of romantic escapes, horny adventures, and devastating looks. Barely any trees.”
An Out-of-Context Sentence from Must Love Trees: An Unconventional Guide
Page 6:
“Rather than seeing my lack of conventional qualifications as a liability, I decided to understand it as an asset.”
Pre-order from:
Audrey’s Museum Store at the Skirball Center (for book launch signing)