UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!
Check this shit out!
All work and no play put Mere on top of the Amazon Best-Seller List!
Also probably in a home, but that’s not for at least a year. Or maybe a little less.
Right, so that last post where I said I have two books coming out in September?
This is my third book and it comes out TODAY!
but there was a scheduling thing and you know what? Just go with it.)
Now granted, I’m stretching a bit, calling You Have Lipstick On Your Teeth “my” book. After all, I wrote one pseudofictional essay (so, like, 2% of the words) and then didn’t do any of the reading, decision-making, editing, designing or layout, because I’m enormously fucking lazy and I hate all that “working” shit. I mean, sit me down in front of a keyboard, I’ll bang on the buttons, but that’s pretty much all you’re getting from me. Though in all fairness, nobody asked me to do any of those other things like designing or layout… but I suppose it’s for the best since, again: enormously fucking lazy.
In reality, “my” book is actually “our” book and the “our” are a bunch of sassy-badassy women I am proud to know and read online (and who you should read, too – make sure you check their bios for URLs!), all of whom deserve more credit for this book than I do, none moreso than Leslie Marinelli (@TheBeardedIris), our beloved editor, with whom I had a long, earnest email exchange over altering the sentence, “And then I farted.”
(Turned out we both hated it – I fucking hated it when I wrote it, but couldn’t come up with anything better on my own — until Leslie and I collaborated and came up with “writhing colon.” Much more evocative; I’m quite proud of the line now. As for her, I’m sure she wishes I had never told you any of this.)
But why did you wait so long to talk about this book, Mere?
Hey first, how’d you get access to my blog and why are you yelling at me in bold?
And secondly, the folks responsible for this anthology swore all its contributors to Girl Omerta, which is nothing to screw with. You think cement shoes and the deep sea are scary, try anonymous midnight texts quoting Gwyneth Paltrow:
That’s fucked up, y’all.
Everyone should want to eat cheese from a tin.
Hence I kept my mouth shut despite my desperate desire to shriek from the highest heights, “I’m in this awesome-tits new book and I’m the third story and that’s gotta be some kind of special fucking numerology, right? I have superpowers now?”
Thus, without further ado,
There are scads of talented, intelligent women’s voices in here, and besides that, mine too!