I was traveling last week for work, and the majority of the time was spent recruiting. I don't normally recruit, but once or twice a year the company sends me to the universities where I attended college and graduate school. Recruiting itself is a bit unsettling, mostly because it feels almost like playing God.

I meant to put this up last week, that I had such a good time at Beehive Books. As far as indie bookstores go, Beehive is a relatively new one.

I had a dream about high school last night, that I was back in it. The reason, no doubt, is a review of Schooled that popped up this week, one that was quite critical of my story.

I recently answered some questions for a small local paper, so I thought I'd put the link up here in case you want to check it out.

When I originally wrote this for Schooled, I didn't like the way it turned out, so it didn't make it into the book. It's a hard topic to feel like you have any business writing about.

A friend of mine took this picture, and I confess I was surprised to learn that such things were even in the paper at all. Not that I was really planning on discussing my book yesterday...it was just a signing.

As a lover of memoirs, there are a few in particular that I would love to see done. I'd love a lunch lady memoir, a veterinarian memoir for the new generation that perhaps isn't familiar with James Herriot (I should really talk to my parents about this), any teacher memoir is dynamite, and I'm always a sucker for the memoirs of writers themselves (think Eudora Welty, Annie Dillard, Michael Greenberg, Larry McMurtry).

I was pleased to learn this week that my wonderful book designer (of VMC Art and Design) is entering Schooled into a design competition. It'll be in the book cover category, and given how much I (and everyone else) love the cover, I'm hoping she does well.

Wanted to say a few words about the Cedar Fairmount Festival, which I was fortunate enough to be able to participate in thanks to Appletree Books.

It's a question of time. Because I don't have any. I suppose this is the plight of any writer who doesn't write full-time; who can, in fact, only fit in writing when she has the time.

I learned recently (when they sent me the advanced review) that the San Francisco Review has given Schooled a 4 out of 5 stars.

When you are a no-name author, word of mouth is one of the only things you have to work with. You hope that everyone who reads your book tells several other people who then read it and tell several more people about it. In my head I always thought of it as a snowball/domino effect that would blossom quite naturally. In reality though, getting people to buy your book is not that easy.

It's an interesting thing, selling a book. Especially when you 1) have never sold one before and 2) are a relative nobody. Actually, there's nothing relative about it. To anyone but my friends and family (who have for the most part already bought copies), I am a nobody.

I recently switched departments at the office, and my new crew had just completed a project when I joined them.

Today is the 15th anniversary of the day I wrecked my parents' new car. It's all in the book, so skip to about page 60 if you haven't gotten there yet, and sometimes I wonder why I even put it in there.

This happens to me every year. I become exponentially more sentimental than I already am. I cry at such things as the Glee season finale.

It occurred to me recently that 9 of the last 10 books I've read have been memoirs. Figures.

No, I don't have a Father's Day poem from Billy Collins for this post. But I do find it funny that he's making his way into the conversation again.