Well, well, well. It looks like I've already been scooped on this story. I wouldn't be surprised if the Backroads Hometown Gazette revokes my press card. Okay. I would be surprised, since I am the executive editor, chief editor, top editor, managing editor, mid-level editor, contributing editor, and stringer of that illustrious rag.
Here's the story: Not Your Mother's Book...On Being a Mom will be available to the masses on April 8, 2014. This anthology, from Dahlynn McKowen and Ken McKowen of Publishing Syndicate, co-created by Dianna Graveman, just happens to contain a tiny tale from the Val Thevictorian, under a little alias called Her Real Name. Oh, and so far, it looks like Donna Volkenannt, Linda O'Connell, and Sioux Roslawski, along with Dianna Graveman herself, will also grace the pages of this rib-tickling tome. Going by reports from the bi-liners who scooped me, touting this release, you will read about wine, tattoos, and a hairy situation. Then there's my contribution, "The Consummate Performer." I will leave that to your imagination, or dangle it like a carrot on a stick in front of a horse-donkey to entice you to fork over some moolah for this upcoming addition to your home library.
Yes, I know it is totally unlike me to brag about my accomplishments. A regular shrinking violet is Val. But the biggest surprise, perhaps, is learning that I am a mom. It's true! I have kids! Uh huh. I've been quite adept at keeping that bit of dirt under the rug. So now you know. I can let my mom flag fly. Who knows, I might even write about my boys once or twice a year.
There. I gave you that news for free. You didn't have to purchase a paper. No need to hang around the newsstand buying a pack of gum, a Clark Bar, and a Penthouse Forum in order to break your $100 bill.
Really? Is that what George and Kramer bought? Or did you just list a string of things, figuring no one was going to challenge you?
ReplyDeleteOo. Oo. Oo. We could all do a book signing together. You could bring a portable section of fence with you, to retain your anonymity.
How 'bout it?
Congratulations. I've sent them several stories but have yet to hear from them, not on the topic of being a mom of course.
ReplyDeleteWell congratulations on another story. This town is going to party!
ReplyDeleteI'm in it, too. That really could be one scary book signing. Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteHot Dang! When you're published and your hardback is on the top of the New York Times Bestseller list and you come to my town for a book signing I will bring a fresh draft 44 oz. Coke and a new pair of Crocs when I come for your autograph. But I'm not running out to buy Coke and Crocs--not because you'll never top the best seller list but because I'm on the other end of Backroads and NOBODY, not even Patrick McManus or Tom Bodett comes here for a book signing.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteYes, Madam, that is what they bought. It's not like I have Penthouse Forum on the tips of my fingers, ready to string together as a random item. And while we're talking randomness...I think Zagnut has a better ring to it than Clark Bar.
I'm shocked, SHOCKED, that you don't remember this minutiae from the episode about the lesser babka. George wore a puffy coat, and Kramer had no heat in his car. I am always ready for a challenge.
I'm not sure the world of book-signings is ready for Val. As far as my anonymity, I could just string some twine through a tome, loop it over my ears, and wear it like a very bad Santa's beard. VOILA! Instant disguise.
*****
Stephen,
Thank goodness you clarified that last part. I was all ready to break it to you gently that perhaps this was not the proper edition for you.
Keep sending. If it's not one that's about ready for release, you might not hear back for a while. You're good enough, you're smart enough, and doggone it, people read you!
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Linda,
That could be a very dangerous thing. I hope one of us does not kick over a lantern in our festive frenzy.
*****
Tammy,
Congrats! Such a signing might be considered a real aMOMination of decorum.
*****
Leenie,
Perhaps you could come here. We'll leave the light on for you. Oh, and don't forget my 44 oz. Diet Coke and Crocs. I'll keep you updated on my New York Times Bestseller List status. I don't mean to rain on my own parade, but something tells me that first I have to write a book before I start looking for my name on that list.