Ouch

I did something funky to my back. It must have happened Monday night while I was working (probably when I delivered that baby on the stretcher). I came home Tuesday morning as usual and went to bed. I woke up at 3 and my back was in a spasm. I thought at the time that it was a message from Aunt Flo, telling me to get ready, because of course she'd come to visit 2 days before we hit the beach. So I took 800 mg of Motrin (yes, it's safe, believe me) and laid back down. Two hours later, I couldn't move. Clearly, this wasn't a case of mean Aunt Flo. So I had to call in sick to work and take a Flexoril. Two hours after that I was sound asleep. I think I slept for 12 hours straight. Might be a world record for me.

Unfortunately, my sore back isn't the only ouchie in my life. To make matters worse, I found this review from Publisher's Weekly in my inbox:

Bunco Babes Tell All Maria Geraci. Berkley, $14 paper (336p) ISBN 9780425227589

A north Florida realtor with an abysmal romantic history continues her quest for a suitable man in Geraci’s formulaic debut. Kitty Burke is the only single gal in her circle of friends who get together every week to gossip, play dice and drink. But then she meets Steve, a plumber and multiple divorcé who seems like a horrible Mr. Right, but an excellent Mr. Right Now. As Kitty’s personal life heats up, her professional life does, too: she is offered a chance to broker a new condo development, something that will be very unpopular in her town, but very good for her pocketbook. Things, however, are not as they seem, in love or business. While genre fans will feel at home with Kitty, who is attractive, somewhat successful and, like her pals, full of quirks, her story is woefully unoriginal. This disposable diversion’s good for a few laughs, but not much more. (May)

I mean, ouch and double ouch! I've had a couple of pretty awesome reviews for my book and I knew that chances were, I'd have a couple of bad ones too because it's part of the business, but I have to say, this one really hurt. Publishers Weekly is a highly respected magazine and although they're not always romance friendly, I was hoping for something a bit better. The part about "good for a few laughs" did ease the sting some. I mean, do you know how hard it is make people laugh?

But wait.

I read it again. And again. And then something occurred to me.

Things, however, are not as they seem.

Was this some sort of hidden message? Was I missing something here? So I read it a few hundred times more. And that's when I saw it. The real review! How did I miss it the first time around? I've highlighted the words the reviewer put in secret code so you could see what I mean.

A north Florida realtor with an abysmal romantic history continues her quest for a suitable man in Geraci’s formulaic debut. Kitty Burke is the only single gal in her circle of friends who get together every week to gossip, play dice and drink. But then she meets Steve, a plumber and multiple divorcé who seems like a horrible Mr. Right, but an excellent Mr. Right Now. As Kitty’s personal life heats up, her professional life does, too: she is offered a chance to broker a new condo development, something that will be very unpopular in her town, but very good for her pocketbook. Things, however, are not as they seem, in love or business. While genre fans will feel at home with Kitty, who is attractive, somewhat successful and, like her pals, full of quirks, her story is woefully unoriginal. This disposable diversion’s good for a few laughs, but not much more.

Let me put the secret code words together to show you the real review:

Geraci's debut is excellent. Genre fans will feel at home with Kitty, who is attractive, somewhat successful and, like her pals, full of quirks. This very good diversion's good for laughs!

I'm feeling much better now, despite the fact that I'm still walking like an old woman. I just have to be careful with my back for the next few days and keep repeating my favorite quote for Bunco Babes Tell All: Jennifer's roommate's mother loved it!

So there.