Tom’s new project, a book of 17 mini stories that he wrote and was officially out for purchase a couple of days ago. You can get it from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Book Depository and Audible for the audiobook read by Tom Himself.
A gentle Eastern European immigrant arrives in New York City after his family and his life have been torn apart by his country’s civil war. A man who loves to bowl rolls a perfect game–and then another and then another and then many more in a row until he winds up ESPN’s newest celebrity, and he must decide if the combination of perfection and celebrity has ruined the thing he loves. An eccentric billionaire and his faithful executive assistant venture into America looking for acquisitions and discover a down and out motel, romance, and a bit of real life. These are just some of the tales Tom Hanks tells in this first collection of his short stories. They are surprising, intelligent, heartwarming, and, for the millions and millions of Tom Hanks fans, an absolute must-have!
Tom is on full promotional mood, he was out & about a few days and we already got a couple of new photoshoots with some features written about him & the book. Check them out as follow. He did a talk with The New York times yesterday, check out the full video of the talk below and the pictures in the gallery.
In 2006, when Tom Hanks wanted to get a story published, he sent it to his friend and sometime director Nora Ephron.
Having had my own writing critiqued by her, I know just how daunting that could be.
“Oh, petrifying, horrifying, yes, yeah,” Mr. Hanks said, grimacing.
The piece was a sweet paean to his makeup man Danny Striepeke, then 75 years old and retiring, a 50-year Hollywood veteran who had started by giving Elvis Presley his tan in “Viva Las Vegas” and Laurence Olivier his Roman nose in “Spartacus” and ended by turning Mr. Hanks into a policeman, an astronaut, an Army Ranger, an F.B.I. agent, a Master of the Universe, a Slavic tourist stuck in an airport, Santa Claus and a Harvard professor of symbology.
Hanks sent Ms. Ephron the piece — she got mail! — and asked, “Is this a thing?”
“And she said, ‘Yes, it is a thing. Send it to The New York Times. I’ll make some calls for you. It shouldn’t be in the Sunday Styles section but maybe in the Thursday Styles section,”’ Mr. Hanks recalls. And after many rewrites and lots of no-mercy Nora editing, like “What does this mean?” and “This is not good” and “Voice, voice, voice” and “Tell people what you’re going to tell them, and then tell them, and then tell them what you just told them,” it was finally published in Thursday Styles.
I hesitate, wondering if now is the moment to break the news to Mr. Hanks: He has spent a decade honing his writing and, despite all the other acting and directing and producing he does, and despite being, as the historian Douglas Brinkley calls him, “American history’s highest-profile professor,” he has managed to squeeze in a book of fictional short stories called “Uncommon Type.” And yet he’s still going to be in Thursday Styles. [More]
“This is odd,” Tom Hanks says with a shake of his shoulders, the international sign of limbering up. We are in a photographer’s studio in LA, a setting that is as familiar to Hanks as the reason for our meeting is strange. He has written a collection of short stories called Uncommon Type and, balanced on the edge of the sofa, is exploring the novelty of giving an interview without “talking points from the studio”. Hanks-the-actor is cushioned; Hanks-the-author is not, and after humbly asking what other writers I’ve interviewed recently (Salman Rushdie, Martin Amis) barks with incredulous laughter. “Oh, shit,” he says.Sign up for the Bookmarks email
For those of us who came of age in the late 1980s, Hanks has been around as long as we’ve been going to movies, and at 61 he is bizarrely unchanged: hair marginally greyer, face slightly fuller, but otherwise still Hanks, the boyish energy and cheerful cadences recognisable from three decades on screen. He often starts sentences with “Look, I get it”, or rather, “I-I-I get it”, the mild stutter synonymous with his brand of almost cartoonish affability. “Look, I get it,” he says, pushing his black spectacles up the bridge of his nose, hippy beads slack at his wrist. “I’m a famous guy and I wrote a book and all that, but the reality is, how much does a collection of short stories really warrant attention?”
This is classic Hanks, appearing to break the fourth wall of his celebrity to let us all in; and if he has survived these years in the spotlight relatively intact, it is through a combination of good luck and this kind of strategy. Hanks gives every impression of being sincere, but I get the feeling he is also rather wily about his famous good humour. As he must know by now, it can make it hard to see anything else. [More]
And last but not least, we got a new portrait session that was done with the TimesTalk.