So. Here's something about me: If you drop me a line I'll likely drop you a line back and chat and chat and chat.
While I'm my father's daughter in many ways -- we both have blue eyes and round faces and we share an annoying penchant for changing tables in restaurants at least twice after we're seated -- my amazing mom and I do share one huge trait: We like to talk to people wherever we go.
The grocery store line, the park, anywhere. We will probably ask you about your favorite food and your pets and your theories on space travel by the time our brief moment together is over.
I'm saying this because I love to hear from people regarding the Wilfair books -- or anything, really -- but I'll probably write back. If you're down with this, great. If not, no worries.
A Warning to Readers
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8 comments:
This is both true and fantastic.
I agree with bess - it IS fantastic:) I thought I might have to issue my own warning - I didn't want you to feel pressured to answer my every comment or feel like I was stalking you. Feel free to chat - doesnt' bother me in the slightest.
You guys crack me up. In my heart I've dedicated the pages I've been writing these last few days to you both (you too, Chiara, if see this).
Two words: shag rug. It's not really a spoiler since shag rug is on the "Stay Awhile" cover.
When you read about the rug know I was thinking of your great and supportive comments
My mom had a shag rug growing up. And a little rake especially for the purpose of keeping it its shaggiest. I thought that was the coolest when I was little... actually, I still kind of want one.
SHAG. RUG. RAKE. My life has changed. Thank you, Carly.
One of my earliest memories involves a shag rug. It's a rather disgusting memory, involving a half-sucked cough drop, so perhaps I'll leave that for a full post.
I'm sure you're like CANNOT WAIT!
Now I'm even more excited to read the new book! And Carly, a shag rake? That's amazing. There's the whole world of shag maintenance that I had no idea existed. Rug raking seems like something you could occupy little kids with for hours.
Can you imagine if, like, your whole house was shag and you had to use a regular size rake on it?
Can't wait to hear the cough-drop story. Oddly enough, I like gross stories. Even if I'm repulsed, I need to know. It's kind of like how little kids like to compare each other's scrapes and stuff. You know that whatever is under that band-aid will not be pretty, but you look anyway.
Or is that just me?
Now I'm picturing a whole house with shag carpeting being tended by a Buddhist monk with a rake like one of those zen gardens.
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