Saturday, May 3, 2014

Happiness ensued.

I was in the middle of writing a blog post about the words “wretched and dismayed.”  I had read them in a book I was going to review (The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair) and realized that wretchedness is a strong focused emotion and crowds out all but its own pain.  You experience your day through the dark velvet curtain of despair.  I was explaining how that is preferable to the general unfocused malaise most of us experience that simply shrouds existence in an indefinable blahness.

When I have an indefinable blahness, I run to food and say, “I have a general malaise, will you comfort me?” and food says, “Come here snookums, you need a hug.”  Contrary to Doctor Phil and Jillian Michaels, food can comfort you.  Really?  Of course, not.

Anyway, after a good snack of ciabatta bread and fresh mozzarella, I looked at my e-mail and there was a message in sepia tone that means my computer thought it was junk.  It even said to me, g-mail thinks this is junk.  Sometimes I get crazy comments on my blog from Russian robots and the subject line says, “there be many ideas to find.” Those e-mails are not only junk they will probably blow up your computer.  The subject line on this e-mail said:  Interest in Daughters. I thought:  either someone wants to marry my daughter (who is already married) or they like my book, Daughters.  I went up to the right hand corner of the computer and clicked “not junk.”

When I read the e-mail, I went into a catatonic stare – my usual reaction to good news - and stayed like that for a good two or three minutes.  Then I read the e-mail again.  Here’s what it said:  I’m an editor here at Amazon Publishing.  I’ve been reading the terrific reviews for DAUGHTERS and would love to consider it for our list. I see on your bio that DAUGHTERS has been translated into 15 languages--which is fantastic! I’m wondering if World rights are available.  If so, I’d like to give the book a read to see if it’s a good fit for our list.

I closed “Mail” and remained in a catatonic stare.  After a while I thought about how just minutes before I had considered the Great Zon (Amazon) an unreachable entity that resided in a galaxy far, far away.  And now?  It was as close as an e-mail.  The Mighty Zon was going to re-publish my book and use its marketing muscle to sell it.  Happiness ensued.


  1. What wonderful news! I do hope you'll keep us updated on what "The Mighty Zon" has to say. I just realized I've never read Daughters, which is shocking since I thought I'd read all your stuff. Will have to go get myself a copy. I'm due a good read, and your books always deliver.

  2. Yay for you!!! If anyone's writing deserves a nod from the Mighty Zon, it's yours. If it was me, I'd print that email out and stop strangers in the street to make them read it.

    1. Happy to hear from you. Yes, ok. I'll print it out and stop strangers on the one street. Splendid idea.