They say what a person reads says a lot about them. I've certainly learned a great deal since becoming an author about reading preferences and how unique they truly are. I'll be at an author event right next to the person selling what seems like the weirdest, most uber niche-based book there, and yet I'll watch people walk past my booth and buy the weird, uber niche-based book. It takes all kinds of readers. And all kinds of books.

It's no secret that I'm a non-fiction girl. Memoir, specifically. I get annoyed by good, fascinating novels when I think about the fact that it's all made up and didn't actually happen. For me, it's much more satisfying to read about something that actually happened. More than that, something written by the person it happened to (as opposed to a biographer or historian). There's just no comparison to real life, and the fascinating, heartbreaking, and triumphant situations we get ourselves into.

I was talking the other day with my six-year-old nephew about a humorous card I had mailed to his house--one that featured a cat poop joke--and told him that Clementine (my cat) had liked it, too.

I'm just about 2/3 done with my second book. Which feels like progress. And it is. But I'm finding this last 1/3 to be much harder to write than the first 1/3.