They’ve finally removed the “Mr.”. If you went to the Amazon page to buy my paperback (which you definitely should, by the way – it’s only $6.99 and tells you which city in America has the most sex), I was listed as “Mr. Ken Levine”. I have no idea why. It made me seem like such a diva – the male equivalent of “Miss Diana Ross”. The message it sends is this guy takes himself reeeeally SERIOUSLY. This is not the best profile for an author trying to hawk a humor book.
Nor is it particularly flattering. It’s not Mr. Show Biz or Mr. Dynamite or Mr. Burns. It’s an uptight hair stylist. And it's not a demand for respect. "They call me Mr. Levine" doesn't have the same gravitas as "They call me Mr. Tibbs."
Besides, Mr. Levine is my son.
Okay, an explanation: When my daughter, Annie was 13 she attended a summer day camp at her elementary school. My son, Matt (then 17) was hired to be one of the counselors. The camp director insisted that all campers only refer to the counselors by their last names. So Annie had to call her brother Mr. Levine. This went over well, as you can imagine.
Anyway, after a week Amazon finally removed the Mr.
I also get a kick out of the feature where they list other items people who bought my book have ordered. In my case, they include a butane lighter, a self-help counseling book by Dr. Phil, and a trash can with a shredder attached.
Thanks to everyone who has ordered my book (either in paperback, Kindle, Nook, or other ebook format). And trust me, that shredder really works!
"Annie was 13 she attended a summer day camp at her elementary school. My son, Matt (then 17) was hired to be one of the counselors. The camp director insisted that all campers only refer to the counselors by their last names. So Annie had to call her brother Mr. Levine."
ReplyDeleteThat's funny. And it sounds like something from a family sitcom.
"I also get a kick out of the feature where they list other items people who bought my book have ordered."
I looked at that feature, too, and cracked up at some of the other stuff. You have some weird fans - excluding me. Alright...including me. I bought those other books about creating art from household garbage and influencing the stock market with your mind. Now I just have stinky sculptures and an empty portfolio, but it doesn't matter, because I can laugh at Mr. Ken Levine's travels.
You've abandoned the company of some fine men, for whom Mr. is an essential part of their name:
ReplyDeleteMr. Bean
Mr. Wizard
Mr. Potato Head
Mr. Bill
Mr. Holland
The Fantastic Mr. Fox
Mr. Clean
Mr. Rogers
Mr. Yuk
Mr. Big
I bought. I read. I laughed very much.
ReplyDeleteWhere The Hell Am I! $7 via Amazon.
My copy arrived today. LOVE IT!
ReplyDeleteI went ahead and forged your autograph. "To Emily, the only woman I've ever loved. Mr. Ken"
I bought the digital version. Can you autograph my Kindle?
ReplyDeleteAnd I thought the only ones who didn't like being refered to as "Mr." were... uh... I'm afraid to say... I don't want to accidentally offend anyone...
ReplyDelete$3 for the kindle edition!? I just bought it. It's the least I can do for reading your blog through Google Reader and you not getting any ad support. Keep it up and I can't wait to read it.
ReplyDeleteI had fun while reading your article. This was great. Love it!
ReplyDeletePhillip B...you left out another very important Mister...
ReplyDeleteMr. Ed (of course, of course).
Only a week? Who did you have to ... uh ... kiss to get them to move that fast? My DH spent weeks trying to get a screwed-up product description changed. My own PDs are a mess, too. They're not at all what I uploaded &, based on DH's experience, I kinda dread the process of trying to get them changed.
ReplyDeleteSo, congratulations!
Wonder what the family calls Mr. Skin? And how would a DJ intro the latest hit from "Mister Mister"?...not that they've been in the studio in recent weeks or anything.
ReplyDeleteb
Jeez, Ken, could you choose your headers more carefully? I thought you had gone in for surgery and were now to be referred to as Kenisha.
ReplyDeleteGlad the book is soaring off the shelves.
Somehow, being in elementary school at 13 sounds wrong. And let's not forget Mr. Blackwell.
ReplyDeleteMr. Know-it-all wasn't listed.
ReplyDelete