“I’m really disappointed in our hometown paper.” I complained to my husband Paul.
“Why?” He asked.
“Because, you’d think they would be the most supportive with my book being released. The Sacramento Bee was all over it. They sent out their reporter weeks ago. And, thanks to them, our story went national. So, why hasn’t our paper supported us?” I rambled on and on…
It was true. Our local paper was a little slower than the rest to cover our story, and on the morning they showed up to meet with me, I lived out one of my worst author-nightmares.
It was one of those mornings…
I’d argued, ahem, I mean debated with my husband earlier about my priorities. He was frustrated. I’d been confusing dates and appointments lately. He has a wonderful way of helping me to focus. Needless to say, I focused. The house was clean, a pot of ice tea was brewing, and I’d just returned home from my three-mile morning walk.
I was sweating like a contender for the Kentucky Derby, hair pulled back and matted to my head, clothes stuck to different parts of my body when I heard the doorbell ring.
Opening the door, I stared in shock at the face of a news reporter who shared the same shocked look- while my children peeked around my legs in their pajamas. What made my skin crawl was the man who stood beside her with two elephantine cameras hanging around his neck, and a smirk he failed at hiding.
“Hi.” I sputtered, suddenly remembering our appointment.
OH NO. NO. NO. NO. NO! A voice screamed in my head.
The reporter’s look of shock immediately morphed into a sour face, obviously irritated that I’d overlooked our appointment.
I’ve learned quite a few lessons while marketing my first book, the greatest lesson by far is that YOU WILL BE HUMBLED. Some way, some how, some place…you will be brought to your knees.
When the reporters left, Paul walked over and put his arms around me. “You know, I find this ironic. Weren’t you just complaining the other day about them not supporting your book?”
Irony was lost on me.
He went on, “Remember cutie, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.” He chuckled.
When he released me from his embrace, his laughter received a loving punch to the gut.
Read the Village Life article HERE.
Don’t miss the hook as she throws me under the bus. Like my bad hair wasn’t painful enough.