It happened again. A woman I genuinely like, who seems to genuinely like me, asks to read one of my novels. Of course I give her the one with the best reviews, the best cover, the best everything, and I wait, hoping she will love it. But two weeks later, she approaches me, my book in her hand and she gives it back to me! "No, no, the book is for you," I say, but she's shaking her head and stepping backwards, like I've handed her a dead flounder.
"Why would such a happy person write such a sad book?" she asks. I have no idea what to say to her! I finally say, "I can be happy BECAUSE my novels are dark," but she just shakes her head and says again, "But, you're so NICE. You're so HAPPY. A book like this doesn't make sense coming from you. "
Sigh. I feel like I have entered Superman's Bizarroland.
Causes Caroline Leavitt Supports
The Writers' Strike Writers Against the War PETA