Stephanie Gayle

Now that my novel is officially out I can go hunting in local bookstores. Playing "where is my book" is fun except when it is not. It's fun when it's easiest, when my book is up front on a table! It's least fun when my book is tucked away from eager book buyers whose attention spans might not be long enough to take them to the shelf on which my book is hidden, spine out.

Face out is much better, but face out is rare, because it takes up valuable shelf space. Face out is usually reserved for bestselling authors or authors of multiple books or authors whose names don't end in Gayle. Fuckadoodle! (Think that will get me a more 'adult' blog rating? Or will my made up curse fail the censors' check?)

Today I found my book spine out beside a face out book and my fingers itched, they positively itched to take my poor, unloved novel and put it, face out, atop the other book. But apparently I have morals or ethics because I couldn't. It felt wrong. Besides, what had William Gay ever done to me? Nothing. That's what. And that's why his novel, Twilight, remained unmolested, and damn it! Damn it! I had to look up the title of William Gay's book because I was uncertain. His book came out in October and the paperback version is due out September. Pal, you had a good run of shelf hogging. I've only had two days of shelf obscurity.

Perhaps my morals are not as fixed as one might suppose...