Yesterday it occurred to me that my book comes out in exactly 2 months. In just 60 days someone can walk into BAM or Borders or Barnes & Noble and go to the counter and pick it up, and I have to tell you, it's a pretty frightening thought.
Remember this line of dialogue from Sleepless in Seattle?
Meg Ryan character: "It's like that dream where you suddenly look around and you're naked."
Rosie O'Donnell character (sighing): "I love that dream."
Yeah, well, I don't.
Not that I ever recall having the naked dream, but I've definitely had the naked daydream. This is the one where you imagine yourself going into the bookstore and overhear two people saying, "Well, that book sucked!" And you realize that they're talking about your book.
In the course of the past year I've had the "what's your book about?" question more times than I can recall. And I always respond something like this, "Well, it's about this group of women in a small town in north Florida who play Bunco." This either gets a smile or the inevitable, "what's bunco?" question. And then I say something to the extent of, "It's kind of like women's fiction, but not. I mean, no one dies or has breast cancer or anything, so it's sort of light and fluffy..." and I go and on until I usually get embarrassed and change the subject. Because, really, who wants to listen to someone go on and on about their book?
And then something else occurred to me last night too (call it my post-Bunco epiphany).
I have to get over it.
Because let's face it, no matter how funny, charming, sexy, etc, my mother, critique partners, editor, agent, etc. think my book is, there will be people out there who will think it sucks because that's just the nature of life. Some people will love it, some will think it's merely okay, and some won't like it at all. And I'm going to have to learn to be okay with that. I didn't set out wanting to be the next Maeve Binchy. I can only be myself and write what comes naturally to me.
So, what's my book about?
It's about this group of women who play Bunco in north Florida, and yes, there's sex in the first fifty pages (because let's face it, people do have sex), and it's funny and light, and part of the conflict revolves around a missing pair of thong underwear and this evil land developer who wants to build condos on the beach, and... Well, you get it?
In No Particular Order by Ree
10 hours ago