I have a new book coming out from St. Martin's Press in May and this means I'm nervous as hell.
I picked the title "HOW TO SELL BOOKS" for this post because it is what I want YOU to tell me.
If you got all excited thinking it's something I could to explain, I'm sorry, but I convinced myself not to feel too bad about the title-bait-and-switch after seeing as how a lot of the dieting-and-weight-control blogs seem like they're written by people who weigh about 108 pounds soaking wet. If they can discuss how people struggle with the need to eat Snickers and cheddar-flavored chips (while I can tell from their tiny photographs that they have model-sculpted, thin cheeks that nobody would pinch in addition to having swan-like necks the size of the wrists of people over 152 pounds), then I could write about the general anxiety surrounding the selling of books.
It's not that I'm bitter.
Actually, IT'S NOT THAT I'M BITTER is the name of the new collection of essays. The subtitle is "How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Visible Pantylines and Conquered the World" and while that's partly true--I don't worry about visible pantylines because I no longer care what people think of my ass as I'm leaving a room (and that, let me tell you, is one of the great joys of being 52: knowing if I haven't made enough of an impression with what I've been saying or through the creative use of cute accessories, it's already too late to gain anybody's approval)--part of the subtitle is also a lie.















