Dear All,
This is the latest episode of Don’t Press That Button, a newsletter about books and music and movies and cats and baseball and whatnot. As the name would indicate, we are very cautious about buttons around here. Buttons are tempting, but so are a lot of things.
Rest assured the button below is safe. All it will do is subscribe you to this newsletter.
I Left the House — Again!
2025 has been a bit much, to be honest, which is why I utterly failed to inform you all about my plans to attend the Leipzig Book Fair on March 28 and 29 to promote the publication of Buchheim Verlag’s gorgeous German-language edition of The Curator, Die Kuratorin. This failure does not register too, too highly on my List of Failures, thankfully — #3211 — and luckily the word must have gotten out, because it was my pleasure to meet and sign for quite a few readers at the Fair, and I had a terrific time. Everyone was so friendly, and so forgiving of my lack of German, it was just a beautiful experience altogether.
The trip had a number of highlights, chief among them being an invitation to read from the book at the Gohlis Palace2 on my last night in town. Look at that picture down below. I mean, can you believe that?
My German publisher, Olaf Buchheim, who is among the kindest human beings I’ve ever met, went all out, arranging for a cellist and pianist to play interludes between the passages, and setting up a screen at the back of the stage that ran the text in German as I read in English. It was a blast. I was joined by the illustrator of the edition, my friend Francois Vaillancourt, and we had a great Q&A afterward.

Before that, most of my time was spent at the Book Fair meeting and greeting and signing, and wandering around in a happy, albeit somewhat jet-lagged haze. A Comic Con connected to the Fair occurred simultaneously, and many, many people came wearing fantastic costumes, which added to the festival vibe.
A few notes of interest:
I bought a tea at the fair and was given a tiny, red plastic token along with my beverage. This confused me. It did not seem like currency, but I worried about coming off as a dick if I said anything. Olaf explained to me that you bring the coin back with your cup to get some more change. I did bring back my cup, as it happens, but not the red plastic token, which came home to the U.S.A. with me. Learn from my mistake!
The Monument to the Battle of the Nations has to be seen in person to be believed. You want steps, the monument has you covered. If you want a view that can’t be beat, the monument has that for you as well, although if you are like me — i.e. super uncomfortable with low walls at great heights — you will want to hang back a tad. I was told that the gigantic soldiers that circle the cap of the structure were part of the inspiration for statues in The Lord of the Rings, and that checks out.
Everything you have heard about German food is true. It is delicious.
European airports have much to teach us. I spent some quality time in both the Berlin and Amsterdam airports and they stand out for their abundance of decent seating, light, space, and startlingly pleasant restrooms. I think that American airports are underrated in general, but these two were the best I’ve ever visited.
The Latest
While I wasn’t promoting my visit to the Book Fair, I also managed to not promote my new story, “Letter Slot,” which will be available on April 15 as a part of Amazon’s The Shivers Collection.
Here’s the pitch:
“A helping hand, a fateful cost. In this ominous short story from New York Times bestselling author Owen King, the cost of living keeps rising—and it collects payment from the soul.
Sensing his mother’s failing health, a struggling teenager pours out his worries in a letter and drops it through the mail slot of an abandoned show house. He’s surprised when a response arrives, promising good fortune for the price of just one name: someone he hates. He’d give anything for his mother. But the true cost may be more than he’s willing to pay.”
I’m quite happy about how this one came out, and I hope you’ll check it out. More than that, I’m especially delighted that it’s appearing alongside my big brother’s wicked yarn, “Jackknife,” not to mention Catriona Ward's “Night and Day in Misery,” Stephen Graham Jones's “The Indigo Room,” and Grady Hendrix's “The Blanks.”
Finally, in Self Help news, Jesse and I were lucky enough to be invited to appear on the Turn the Page Podcast, and we had a great talk.
The Psychic Benefits
If you’re new here, you need to know that one recurring feature of DPTB is the Psychic Benefits, the official fan club of the Paranoid Style, which it so happens is also the official pub rock band of DPTB. In light of chatter that we’ve heard in certain corners of the Internet about a new album, I recently wrote to Paranoid Style frontwoman Elizabeth Nelson, to get some answers.
DPTB: Let’s cut to the chase. Is there any truth to the rumors that you’ve been in the studio recording fresh tracks? What can you reveal?
PS: I won’t bullshit a bullshitter. I know better. We’ve been grinding away on the new album Known Associates. It’s a brutal record for brutal times, but I hope the humanity comes through on tracks like “Tearing The Ticket” and “Dead Fucking Last.” The mood has been understandably grim, but the tracks are upbeat, sometimes even celebratory. They say sometimes nothing happens for years, and other times years happen in a week. That’s the kind of time we live in now — hanging in the balance of the reality of man. It’s the best record I’ve ever written and I look forward to sharing it with what’s left of us after the flood.
DPTB: Fuck yeah!
Recommendations
If you’re looking for a film to watch tonight, you could do much worse than The Menu. Ralph Fiennes’ performance is — no surprise — priceless.
S.W. Lauden’s outstanding “Remember the Lightning” Substack has been providing me with a steady stream of power pop tunes. If that’s your jam, it’s your jam.
Baseball! We’ve recommended it before, and we’ll recommend it again. It’s good! Now watch this tasty highlight.
It appears that we are in for a very tough time and, the simple, difficult fact is that the only way out is through. In the meantime, we’re going to have to support each other. I know it’s hard to know where to start, but you might consider signing up to support the American Library Association. Our libraries are one of our nation’s most remarkable resources, and the librarians that share their expertise with us are another. The current administration doesn’t it see that way, though, which is why it’s important to stay updated on what our libraries are contending with so that you can share that information with your friends, or take it to meetings in your community, or include it in letters you write to your local newspaper. A grateful memory: my kindly elementary school librarian scrounging up one Three Investigators mystery after another for me.
That’s all I have for the moment and, fair warning, it might be a bit longer than usual before the next newsletter — deadlines!
In case you ever have a question or a comment or just want to say hi, if you reply to the email, I will see it. I also have a chat here on Substack, and some chatting has taken place. I’m over on Bluesky and Threads and Instagram, too, if you’d like to follow along there, although I’m not super active. Thank you for subscribing. Watch out for those buttons.
All Best,
Owen
Ahead of #322, the time that I tried to stretch a double into a triple in Senior League and got hosed by ten feet; and behind #320, the time I dropped a borrowed Donald Westlake novel into the bathtub and it swelled up like a gangrenous limb.
For what it’s worth, the Gohlis Palace also strongly resembles my mental image of the house that Ike robs in The Curator. (If you haven’t read the novel, sorry for that spoiler, but it’s a minor one.)