. . . So . . . how’s the book doing?
I get this question a lot these days. It always catches me off guard and I never know what to say. I mean, my book couldn’t be happier to be a real live book and really, what more could a book want than to be in black and white and read all over? (Although, I saw my book on somebody’s Kindle Fire the other day and holy crap the pics are in color! In which case, that previous previous sentence would read: “in black and white and red all over”…at least, the picture of the “Vespa Incident” is. Gross. But cool at the same time, because well, somehow my face survived and in a not-quite-Picasso state.)
But I digress, because it feels weird talking about that side of writing a “funny book about cancer” (Namaste Anne Lamott) when I have too many people I love battling the bitch that is cancer or who have put down their pink or whatever colored boxing gloves to find their rest and a little freaking peace.
Humbling. To say the least.
For instance, my friend R (who just downed her last chemo cocktail on Friday-woot freaking woot!) told me that, after her first chemo cocktail, she had a Thanksgiving like the one I had (and wrote about) in my book, and that while she was struggling to cope, she asked her husband to bring her my book, so she could re-read that particular chapter, Round 5: “Beauty From Pain” and catch a view from the other side of the chemo cocktail hangover.
Last week I went to my friend T’s book club who happened to be doing my book. This amazing group of women have done book club together since 1999. They’ve read 10 books a year, together, every year, ever since. 140 books. They have been through a lot, and not just books. Three years ago they went through T’s breast cancer together. Eight months ago they began a journey together through M’s breast cancer. Currently they are going through K’s husband’s recent diagnosis with “Steve Job’s kind of cancer”. The book club was her first girls’ night out since he was diagnosed.
A couple weeks ago my friend J texted me from her chemo cocktail lounge to tell me that she met my friend M because she noticed her laughing while reading my book.
Wow. Wow. Wow. How humbling is that?
That’s why I wrote it.
Besides, I don’t own a business suit. How freaking confusing would it be to tell Ellen and me apart if I did?
The fact that I just realized that I recently had an Amazon check direct deposited to my “business” bank account making it the first paycheck I’ve earned since 1989 is beside the point. Other than that I keep it pretty chill. Except when I happen to be getting my du done by my friend K at one salon, when our mutual friend K, who cures my manis at another salon, walks in to get her hair done after mine READING MY BOOK… at which point we all screamed then busted up laughing, which made quite a scene.