I’ve never been a boaster. I feel like a b-hole talking about my work, generally, which causes the voices to scream “WAY TO SELF-PROMOTE, YA DIPASS!” in my head on a regular basis, or “on the regular,” as I’m pretty sure no one says…
So, with my gonzo horror/creatively vulgar novella Gravenfrost out in the wild, the family reunion I attended earlier in the month filled me with that warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach that Western Doctors identify as anxiety.
“I heard to have another book out,” Aunt [name withheld in case of assassins] said as I popped a cap (gangsta!) off a beer (not as gangsta!).
“Eh, yeah…but…” I took a swig.
“That’s great! I want a copy!”
“Thanks, but…I’m not sure you’ll dig it.
“Please, I read 50 Shades 15 times…”
“Oh, well in that case…?” I went to my car and pulled a copy from the box-o-books I had brought just in case I felt the need to be a damn hypocrite (‘No, you wouldn’t like it,’ *slowly hands you a copy*). I handed it over to Aunt [Assassins] which drew attention from Aunt [name also withheld in case of tax evasion and/or witness protection].
“That your new book?” she asked.
“Looks cool! I’ll take one.”
“Okay, but…” *walked back to car, feeling like a weirdo*
But, yay! Family support! Copies sold! So they get to peer into my NSFW mind, what could go wrong? Right?
The party continued as parties do, and later in the evening an uncle sat down next to me and said, “What’s up with that book?”
“What do you mean?” I replied.
“What’s the deal with the ghost boobs?”
The point to all this, I suppose, is that I guess I’m still not as comfortable with my work as I should be. Like having a drawing slapped on the fridge, or being dropped off at middle school by your grandfather in a short bus (that’s a post for another time…). I feel instantly on the defense. I guess even though it’s probably far too late, I’m still trying to give off the impression that I’m not the family weirdo.
The work is out there, though, and I’m proud of it. I need to embrace my work, and my views instead of worrying about what people think, but that’s always easier said than done. Especially when it comes to family.
I thank them for their interest and support, regardless. And as always: NO REFUNDS!
Also, I can’t seem to handle humidity. I constantly looked like someone tossed a bucket of stagnant pond water on me.
Identities Masked for safety porpoises.
*insert dolphin noise*