[mashshare]
I’ve had a lot of ideas in my approximately 40 (cough, cough) years.

Some were brilliant. Some were brilliantly awful. But from each one of them, I’ve discovered something interesting about myself. Usually, as I wrote in this column on failure, I’ve learned what not to do next time.

A few months ago, I approached the publicity gurus at Shadow Mountain Publishing with an unusual idea to spread the word about my new but not-so-new novel, “The James Miracle.” Years ago, my ridiculously talented editor, Chris Schoebinger, the man who hand-held “Christmas Jars,” “The Wednesday Letters” and several others to market, acquired the publication rights to that first book.

This little and little-known novella, with a few important tweaks from the original, is now in a 10th Anniversary Commemorative Edition.

In one of our first conversations about plans for the rollout, I bemoaned to Karen Zelnick, perhaps the most innovative publicist I’ve worked with in a decade, that the explosion of the e-book market had given a nasty noogie to traditional bookstore signings. Readers just don’t show up at a bookstore to get their Nook signed the way they did the good ole’ fashioned hardcover. The dawning digital age of publishing is exciting, but it’s certainly changed the way authors promote their art.

I expressed all this to Zelnick — that as wonderful as e-books are for convenience, travel and even cost, there’s nothing like a bookstore and the fantastic people who run them. Yes, novels can sell themselves, but nothing can ever replace the flesh and blood bookseller with a passion for literature and an addiction to the smell of paper.

“You really love bookstores,” Zelnick said.

I laughed. “You have no idea.”

By the time the call ended, we’d decided it was time to visit a few bookstores and express thanks to the folks who run them and to meet as many readers as possible along the way. A few calls and a dozen emails later, and the #50storetour was born.

From Wednesday, Sept. 24, to Saturday, Oct. 4, I’m changing my address to a rental car and will visit at least 50 bookstores in eight states.

Starting in Arizona, I will visit stores large and small in Phoenix and Mesa before heading north to Las Vegas, St. George and eventually Salt Lake City. From there I’ll head to Afton, Wyoming, with several stops in Idaho including Rexburg and Boise.

Then it’s off to Washington for Spokane and Seattle before heading south through Oregon. Before heading home, I’ll make 10 stops in California from Sacramento to La Jolla.

Throughout the trip I’ll share my adventures and pictures of the kind people I meet on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Also, thanks to the generosity of the publisher, I’ll be giving away books and goodies (see Bears, Gummy) every day.

Honestly, it’s hard to believe this Christmas gift to my wife in 2004 is still a topic of conversation. As I explain in a letter at the beginning of the novel, I remember wrapping the flimsy, comb-bound book with its cardstock cover and sliding it under our Christmas tree. I’d never been so excited to give a gift!

The next morning, after our two little girls had opened their presents, I handed the package to my wife and nervously watched her open it. Her eyes went wide at the dedication and title page. “You wrote this?” she asked, flipping through the pages. “All of it?”

I laughed and assured her it was an original work. Then I explained that the book wasn’t really the gift — it was the message. There were things I needed to say, and this novella had become my outlet for saying them.

On that long flight home from San Diego, I’ll probably wonder at the miracle that a book written for one in 2004 ever ended up in bookstores. Looking out the window I’ll consider the miracle of my wife and our blissfully imperfect life. I’ll also remind myself that while my writing career is a blessing, my faith and family will always come first.

Oh, and I’ll look at the person next to me and ask a simple question: Do you believe in miracles?

Then, back on the ground in Virginia, I’ll take 50 naps in 10 days in one state.

Well, at least until I have another crazy idea.

(Click here for a complete list of Jason’s tour stops.)

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