You know that chaotic scene at the Oscars? Stars everywhere, spinning in their expensive fashions, flashing their whitened teeth at the cameras?
As I began to pack my things for Love is Murder, I contemplated what it would be like if there were a book conference red carpet, and everyone made a big deal about authors. This is what I imagined:
Me, trudging through the parking lot, my bag slung over my shoulder.
REPORTERS: (forming a mob with mikes and flashbulbs (do they still have flashbulbs?)
Julia! Julia! Who are you wearing, Julia?
ME: What? Oh--uh--I think this is from Sears. Or maybe Penneys. Something with a catalog.
REPORTERS: How about the shoes?
ME: My shoes? I'm not sure. But they have special orthotics to accomodate my heel spurs. And they're made especially for people in standing professions--you know, extra cushioning.
REPORTERS: (looking disappointed) Are you wearing anything original?
ME: Original? Well, I think it's sort of bold to put this color blouse with these pants. And I thought the lapel pin was a whimsical touch. See? It's Shakespeare at a typewriter.
REPORTER: What's in the bag, Julia?
ME: (looking vaguely at my bag) Hmm? Oh, well, a couple copies of my book, and some business cards and postcards. A banana and a power bar. An action figure that ended up in there somehow--I think it's Hobgoblin. I'll ask my son . . . My glasses in case my contacts get--
The reporters have lost interest and are wandering away. One of them yells, "Hey, look, there's Julie Hyzy! She's got a cute skirt on! Let's go!
I'll blog about this a bit more during my Deadly Daughters time on Friday.