I should start by saying my mom is a rock star and a sales
savant. She has literally gone into a retail store to purchase curtains only to
leave having sold three sales ladies my book. I love her dearly and bow down to
her sales savvy. It’s just that sometimes her mojo slips, and it can be pretty
funny.
This was a conversation we had over the phone just after
I published Shattered Angel.
Mom: “I was talking to so-and-so about your book. She hasn’t
read it yet because she’s worried about the content. I wish she would though—it’s
such a good book.”
Me: “I know it’s a difficult read.”
Mom: “Well, that, but also because there are so many cuss
words. Every other word is F-this and F-that. She wouldn’t like it.”
Me: “Um . . . there are a total of 6 F-bombs in it.”
Mom: “No, there’s more than that.”
Me: “Only 6. I’ve counted them.”
Mom: (slight hesitation): “Really? Why did I think there
were more?”
Me: “I don’t know—especially since you were a beta reader,
and I know you’ve read it again since.”
Mom: “Well, if there’s only six she might be OK reading it
then.”
This took place at a restaurant when I had met up with my
mom and one of my aunts. My aunt had left for the bathroom, so it was just me
and master sales chick.
Mom: (to the waiter as he refills our drinks) “Do you like
to read?”
Waiter: (looking at her with suspicion) “Sure.”
Mom: (pointing at me) “She writes books you know.”
Waiter: (looking at me with curiosity) “Really? What kind of
books?”
Mom: (said in a teasing tone) “She writes baaaddd books. Her
last book is so bad.”
Me: (trying desperately not to laugh at the waiter’s
confused face) “Um, mom . . .”
Mom: “Oh, no, not bad as in bad. It’s really good. It’s just
about a bad guy who does really bad things to Angel.”
Me: (really laughing because now the waiter looks convinced
I write BDSM erotica) “Mom, you’re not helping.”
Mom: (deer in headlights look before realization sets in) “Oh,
no! Not those kind of books.”
Waiter: (now desperately trying to leave the crazy lady
table) “Oh, well, good luck to you then.”
Aunt: (returning to a table of laughing women and a
terrified waiter) “What? What’d I miss?”
If you want to read a really ‘bad’ book that gives you a
false impression of F-bomb droppage, don’t hesitate to pick up a copy Shattered Angel and help make it a great 2nd book birthday!
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| With my mamma at an author event in 2015 |
~ Carrie
3 comments:
Hahahaha. I can see this situation as if it's happened to me...Oh, wait. Although the conversation was with my son's head teacher playing the part of the frightened waiter while a friend tried to "sell" her on my books. Happy second pub-iversary!
Haha! At least they mean well :)
Hysterical post, I love your Mom. She's definitely your greatest fan. My Mom sends my blogs to her friends and I have no idea what these eighty year olds think of my content - I'm better off not knowing. Great post.
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