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October 15, 2009

Home Is Where the Wine Is

I was so wrapped up in my new apartment's indoor waterfall yesterday that even as I shared with you the exciting news about the finishing of my manuscript and the simultaneous opening of a chasm in my roof, I neglected to actually tell you the name of the book.

As you can see, I am very skilled at promotion. My publicist has an entire area of grey hair devoted to me and my freakish desire to not leave my house or tell anyone at all about my secret life in books. I think it's because I still can't believe I wrote a book, not to mention TWO -- plural! -- and I fear if I acknowledge it then I will wake up from this good dream and find myself naked from the waist down and late for my chemistry final. PAGING DR. FREUD. DR. FREUD, WHERE ARE YOU?

So! I have a new book coming out! It's called Home Is Where the Wine Is. It also has a long subtitle that changes about every ten days. I am not a fan of subtitles and my editor loves subtitles and I love my editor so I just go with it. One day the subtitle will probably be a paragraph long and contain Sanskrit characters and I will just smile and nod because I have long since released all control over the issue of the subtitle.

One thing I didn't know until I myself wrote a book is how little control the author has over some things. Like the subtitle or the book description or where it shows up on the shelf in the bookstore, if it shows up at all. I'm really lucky, though, my publisher is great and they agreed to the title I wanted and the book cover is so cute:


Look! The stunt cat makes a re-appearance!

So thank you for the lovely emails wishing me well with both the book and the indoor waterfall in my bedroom. And thanks for reminding me to actually share the title of said book.

You can pre-order it on amazon.com or borders.com or at barnes and noble.com. It comes out around Valentine's Day but do not fear -- it is not a sticky sweet romance starring me and the hot bus driver riding off into the sunset and making sweet love on a riding lawnmower. Not that there would be anything wrong with that of course. But this is not fiction, after all, it's me we're talking about and this is Los Angeles and my legs are not nearly as hot as the ones on the cover of my book. It's a collection of essays about dating and complaining and traveling and of course there is at least one adventure in the high art of hair removal because hair removal is my deep existential dilemma. I hope people will like it and laugh a little but you never know. OH! And there are knitting and crochet patterns in it. And a few recipes. And the grave of Al Capone. We aim to please!

As for the leaking roof, the rain finally stopped and it's supposed to be ridiculously hot and dry this weekend so hopefully a team of rooftop specialists will remove the current high-tech fix ("a tarp") and do some actual water-preventing work on my apartment so that I do not have to re-pack all the yarn and move to a cabin in the woods and give up essay writing for a career in the manifesto business.

I can't imagine manifestos get such cute cover art.

I joke, but listen, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel a shot of pure, deep gratitude. Thank you for reading because that is what made all of this possible. Well, the book part, not the indoor rain. I am still looking for someone to blame for that. Gratitude is good for the soul and all, but blame is good for the complexion.

Posted by laurie at October 15, 2009 9:45 AM