
Everyone was so proud. My friends were calling and congratulating me. My neighbors and family were sending flowers. It was amazing... Until they asked to read it.
My mom, who, despite having two grandchildren from me and knowing I've been with my husband for sixteen years still thinks I'm a virgin. My Muslim neighbor who thinks hugging your partner in public is risqué. The moms of the kids I look after before and after school, my great aunts and my husbands grandmother who'd worked in a convent up until retirement, all want to read my book. My book that is about prostitutes, strippers, bikers. My book with... how do I put this because I KNOW these people will also read this blog post(?) ...We will just call it 'Australian kissing scenes'. My daughters best friends mother, whom is thee sweetest lady you'll ever meet, texted me last night to tell me she ordered my book.
Sigh. How do I tell them that my book is NOT autobiographical? How many times do I have to assure them that those parts are NOT based on real life events, How many times do I have to assure them that I'm not a pervert but that I just read, a lot, before I'm comfortable with them reading it?
I'm pretty sure the answer is never. I should have gone with a male pen name. How does Mike Litoris Sound? Jack Mehoof? Ben Mehover?
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