Let’s cover this topical little morsel with a quickness, so as not to ignite any false hopes for the un-grandparents whose anniversary I highlighted recently. Yeah. Maybe for the 40th, guys! Hang in there!
So. There was a time when this blog covered a broader range of things like corporate asininity (plenty to go around!) and bad drivers and trips to the grocery store and family bungles loosely disguised as friend-of-a-friend stories and even some vacation photos, too.
But in late 2007 I got the don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-in-the-ass ticket to leave the corporate drudgery, and then we moved back to New York, and then I became a full time writer, which means that I now have even less time to write books but more time to socially network with my target audience. 😀 Seriously, though, I do spend most of my time writing, researching things for writing, or thinking about writing, and I know my blog reflects that, which may or may not be excruciatingly dull for you (hey, don’t all stop me at once, now!).
And I know it’s only gotten worse. Since my book came out a couple of weeks ago — like, for real, in stores and everything — yikes. I really do feel like the new mom with that first baby (especially when my own Mom told the bookseller the other day that Twenty Boy Summer is the closest thing she’s every going to have to a grandbaby)!
Naked Book Cover! Adorable!
See? This blog is all about ME and MY book baby and MY book cover and MY book contests and MY map thingies and reviews and videos and interviews. I’d probably even post more pictures of the book, but unlike a baby, it doesn’t actually grow or smile or take first steps or cry or, well, look any different from how it looked the first time I showed it. But don’t you for a minute think I’m above dressing it in something cute and frilly for more photo opportunities and themes… oh no hold me back… I’m sensing a Book Baby’s Day at the Beach coming on, complete with sunglasses and the cutest little square bikini… and a little princess towel! Awwww!
Yeah, I know, it’s all about ME and MY book. Don’t think I’m not aware of it. Believe me, I realize I’m just one step away from spitting on a kleenex to wipe the smudge off its face. I’m like the literary version of the up-all-night, paint-the-town-red girl who finally has a baby and goes from cutting VIP lines in South Beach in a strappy sequined dress partying with record executives and rap artists to speaking in monosyllables and singing songs about talking pineapples with palm leaves for hair while she vacuums ground up cheerios out of the car rugs of her stylin’ new minivan in her white button-down with baby spit up all over the shoulder, but what can you do?
Look. I don’t know what the point of this rambling post is, other than to clarify for anyone who may be wondering… no, my book’s poop doesn’t smell. In fact, it’s very cute. Awwww!
I’m sure there will come a time when the book hates me for embarrassing it with all this fanfare and frippery, and you can all tell me how I scarred it for life with my helicopter-parenting, but until that day, stay tuned for more poop—I mean, scoop—on Twenty Boy Summer, because it’s not going anywhere just yet.
And one more thing… all baby jokes aside… you guys are the best! I really do appreciate all of your support and encouragement! 🙂