Psst…I’ll let you in on a little secret.
I’m about to have something in common with such luminaries as Bill Shakespeare and Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi of Jersey Shore. (And no, it’s not an unfortunate hairstyle.)
I will soon be joining their ranks as a published author.
There. I said it out loud. I’M GETTING A BOOK PUBLISHED!
(I just broke a major rule from my college journalism classes. The only exclamation point I’m supposedly allotted in my writing life is for the headline: “WAR!”
Well, college was a long time ago. And I want to exclaim.)
So here’s the skinny:
It’ll be a book of my favorite Tales from the Crib columns from the Lyme Times (which I’ve been writing since Will was three, who’s now ten, so that’s a bunch). It’s being published by a fantastic little publishing house, Skyhorse Publishing in New York.
And it’s probably coming out in spring 2016, so mark your calendars now. Oh, who are we kidding? I’ll remind you. SO MANY TIMES.
One thing’s for sure: it won’t look anything like this book.
Getting a book published is equal parts wildly exciting and hard-core ulcer-inducing.
As someone who writes for a life and a living, it’s been my personal Everest to have my very own words in my very own book on my very own coffee table.
And to be able to stare at it sitting there and to love it and to make my family proud (after they get over being horrified by what I wrote about them…)? Swoon.
Unless..I don’t love it and nobody’s proud and it’s a huge flop and it’s nowhere near as good as Tina Fey or even Bob Saget and there’s a hideous picture me on the back.
Oh, it could happen.
So many fears and insecurities and needling doubts will be along for this ride, but so will lots of you – as my crazy hollering cheerleaders always there to help drown them out.
It was one such lovely loud-mouthed friend who kept talking me up to an editor…and then this happened.
So for all of you who have been faithfully reading my nonsense all these years —
Who have stopped me in the produce aisle to tell me nice things about my latest column…
Who have read my columns out loud to your poor long-suffering husbands…
Who have clipped my writings and sent them to friends…
Who have never once sent me hate mail…
Who have been sweet enough to ask with some frequency, “When are going to write a book?” –
For you, I am so so grateful. A writer’s words are worth a hill of beans if nobody reads them. And you actually read them. Better yet, you don’t line the turtle box with them. (If you do, don’t tell me).
Now, if you really love me, you’ll buy a copy for every friend on your Christmas list. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it.
For now, just THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.