I’m on the verge of realizing a life long dream, so pardon the plug – but, here it is:
So, go on now – order one for yourself, your BFF, your mom, your aunt, your nieces, your sisters, every single member of your book club and school district’s parent-teacher association, your landscaper, your manicurist, your dog walker, your running buddy, and anyone else you can think of who would appreciate a light-hearted romance.
Oh, and did I mention it would make a great holiday gift? Because it would. There. I’m done.
Sorry if I’m going a little overboard, but I’ve been crazy about books since I learned to read and seeing my name on the cover of one is, like, wow. It leaves me speechless. But, lucky for you, I can still type.
When I was a kid, one of my favorite things was to go to the bookstore with my mom. Forever busy with work, making dinner, ironing my dad’s shirts or sewing outfits for me and my sibs, I cherished any one-on-one time I could get with her.
Our favorite haunt was a placed called Breadloaf Book Shop. While my mom mulled over the latest mysteries, I gravitated to the kids’ section and managed to plow through nearly everything the owner had in stock. Then, when I was in sixth grade, I read a book that helped crystalize what I wanted to be when I grew up.
That book was Harriet the Spy. Not that I wanted to be a spy, but Harriet’s story had me so enthralled that being a writer suddenly became my dream.
That I ignored said dream when I grew up was another matter entirely. Plot of a future book, as a matter of fact.
But, who am I kidding? Tooting my own horn has never been my strong suit. Stop your snickering. I know that if I want a shot at the New York Times bestseller list (and, I mean, come on – who doesn’t?), then I’m going to have to get good at it and fast.
I’ve got the whole social media thing down. Sort of. I’m on Facebook and Twitter, so if you haven’t already, please like and/or follow me. Trust me, I’m not above begging. I mean self-promoting which is really not that far removed from nagging. Just ask my boys.
Oh! That reminds me – I still have to order their copies…