Who says what?

Novelist, mother, minister, and yoga teacher muses on books, babies, motherhood, and what matters with reverent humor.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Dearly Beloved

I love my friends. For lots of good, noble reasons (because they're kind people, wise, helpful, etc.), but also for entirely selfish ones. For example, because they love me.

My first book reading and signing was a huge success. They SOLD OUT of copies of THIS LITTLE MOMMY STAYED HOME, which, apparently, never happens. And all because of my 40 beautiful friends.

How well will the book do? This little mommy cannot say. She is excellent at potty training, lacking in ESP. Will I sell out of books online? Will I be rich?

I don't need it. My community makes me wealthy. It is more to me than gold. Thank you for showing up.

(And yes, I have just sapped out on you completely. You may hold it against me. For one day.)


  1. I'm not sure "expert on potty training" is quite sappy enough, though I'm quite envious of your success. (Then again, my oldest is autistic, with sensory integration disorders, and we won't mention how in his early years he thought poop was finger paint.)

    Fantastic news about your launch. And I dare say that even the most loyal 40 friends on the planet wouldn't have bought out all the books if the book wasn't any good. Huzzah!

  2. Now my head is a hot air balloon and I am just going to float away.

    On a different note, my daughter thinks poop is fun. Or more specifically, she enjoys playing with her dirty (cloth) diapers. I do not contemplate what this could possibly mean because I don't agree with anything Freud had to say.

  3. Easy - it means she will be an artist! Or maybe a goat farmer, who makes yummy chevre. All that mucking out stalls.