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MAR
05

Warwick's Book Signing


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Last weekend may have been my best book signing ever. And it wasn't just because of the turnout...which was amazingly good. It's also because it's the one that felt the most party like, the most celebratory, the one with the most smiles, the most hugs. I just felt so damn supported. Surrounded by people who were genuinely happy for my achievement...and also anxious to read the new book.

I was remarking to someone afterward about the relative letdown of an event like this being over. Because that's all I get. Those two hours of being the focus of a party held in the city where I live is all an author like me gets. An encouraging boost in both confidence and royalties, the first month after a book is released is pretty much the best. "It's all downhill from here," I remarked to someone a couple of days ago. Which when it comes to book sales, barring some fortuitous intervention of luck, it is. Besides, there can only be one launch party. And once it's over, you won't be able to rally a crowd in the same way until your next book comes out.

And so that probably explains why I savored every moment at Warwick's last weekend. Because the day was mine. Completely. And surrounded by a helpful staff, customers as loyal to Warwick's as any bookstore I've ever seen, family, and friends, it's more than enough to keep me going.

One thing to note about this signing in particular was that it got a lot of the "strangers" involved. Meaning customers who just happened to be at the bookstore that day and were not there specifically to see me. Because the party was such a force (champagne! a candy bar! tons of people! a photographer!), people wanted in. Or, at the very least, they wanted to see what the hell was going on. And in many cases, these customers participated in the festivities. They bought books and had me sign them. They told me stories about gems they loved, or about hearts that had been broken. There's a picture in the smattering you'll see below that shows me wearing a pained expression, hands over my heart. It's because one of these customers, a complete stranger to me, had just told me about her daughter's recent heartbreak. And who can't relate to that? Which is why I love this book so much. "Can you give her some words of advice?" the mother asked as she handed me a newly-purchased copy to sign. "Here's to love," I wrote. And just underneath, I added, "Because, eventually. Right?"

One can only hope.

APR
23

What I've Been Doing

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Well I can tell you this: I certainly haven't been writing. Expression of regret. Especially since my third book is so juicy...at least I like to think it is...so sometimes it does make me sad that there's still so much left to write and that I've been so busy lately. In any case, it struck me the other day how seldom I actually talk about writing on this blog. Especially when my second book is about to be released. For shame.

I've been pretty mum about it, my second book, and I'm not sure why that is. I guess it's this whole idea of a "big reveal," like some sort of delivery room surprise. "It's out! It's a girl! Cut the cord!" I doubt many fans are waiting with such anticipation to find out the subject matter or see the cover design of my new book, but still, I'm excited.

The most important book-release activity is, of course, the book party, so if you really want to know what I've been doing, I've been stamping and addressing hundreds of envelopes. And floating above the Seinfeld-themed paranoia that I might keel over and die from licking so much inexpensive glue is pre-celebration glee so strong, you'd think I was a pre-teen. You'd also think that because I do, in fact, look like I'm a pre-teen. A pre-teen with access to a lot of stamps.

APR
29

The Party Dress

"There is one day even the most cynical New York woman dreams of all her life," Carrie Bradshaw narrates in a classic SATC episode. "It's her book-release party." Of course, unlike Carrie, I'm not a New Yorker, neither do I have a big publishing house to throw me the bash of the century, but I admit I'd been looking forward to my little party for quite some time. It's always nice to be honored at a party, but usually the reasons for the soirees in my life have been things that I accomplished (like turning 1 year older) without really doing anything special. But this party marked the end of something I've been working on for years, something truly worth celebrating, and I couldn't help but think all throughout the party that I was so glad to be on the other side.

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I'm not into designers and labels the way Carrie is, but that said, I did put some thought into my party dress. While in New York last month, I purchased a rather expensive dress on Fifth Avenue, thinking I could wear it to the party. But shortly after I returned home, I received in the mail what I wait anxiously all year for: my birthday coupon from Anthropologie. My style is much more Anthro than Lord & Taylor, so I decided to buy a second dress option and choose between the two. They were both good options, which is why I can't really explain how I ended up going with neither dress and instead found myself digging out the vintage-esque red number that I bought second-hand. I bought this dress ages ago while visiting my sister. I think she was surprised to see it in my hands, not that I could blame her. Because it's the kind of crapshoot purchase you know is either the cutest thing you've ever worn or the ugliest. And last time this happened (the purchase was a pair of capri overalls), I guessed wrong. They were hideous. But I had a feeling about this red dress. All it needed was a hem job (I'll never understand the mid-calf length) and voila:

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Did I look like a Grandma? Possibly. But did I feel totally at ease and comfortable and completely like myself? Absolutely. And for a party that's all about you, it's important to feel good in your own skin. The only thing I really should have worked out beforehand was my signature. I didn't think it would be that hard to come up with lovely little personalized messages on the spot, but let me just tell you, the mind goes blank people. About the best I could come up with was, "Happy Reading!" Seriously? Happy Reading?? I've got to come up with something better than that. I'm a writer, for crying out loud.

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