Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 06 - Cozy Camping by Jeanne Glidewell

but it took an act of God for me to get an agent, not to mention mailing out hundreds of query letters. My self-esteem was practically bleeding from so many rejections before I got a positive response from Nina.”
    “I know the feeling. I could have wall-papered my living room with the rejection letters I collected before Nina accepted me as a client. I was just a query letter away from the self-inflicted death of my writing career. The few agents who took the time to reply to my queries invariably sent a form letter that basically said, ‘ No way, Jose! Don’t quit your day job, lady! ‘ I feel extremely fortunate to have Nina as my agent. And the fact that she was able to sell my book to a notable publisher was even more amazing. You and I both know, it’s not the kind of book that would appeal to the masses like Fame and Shame obviously does.”
    “Same here,” Sarah agreed, with a long-suffering sigh before standing up and looking down at me as I finished retying my shoe. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
    “Oh, no, thank you,” I replied, caught off guard. “I’m fine. I was just trying to get a knot out of this shoestring and retie it before asking you two about your books.”
    When both of their faces lit up with delight, I knew immediately I was going to have to buy a copy of each book, whether they interested me or not. And, as it turned out, it was the latter. Norma Grace’s book about her life as a so-called “Coupon Queen” and Sarah Krumm’s tome on the principles of multi-generational households and their effect on society did nothing to pique my interest.
    I had clipped coupons in the past only to forget to dig them out of my fanny pack and hand them to the checkout cashier when actually buying a product I didn’t really need in the first place. And living in a multi-generational household wouldn’t appeal to me for very long. I’d give it a month at best before I started circling classified ads in the Rockdale Gazette and presenting the list of available apartments to Wendy. And she’s the only close relative I had left, except for Stone, who already shared a home with me. I loved my daughter more than life itself, but there was such a thing as too much togetherness.
    However, I was pretty adept at feigning interest in things I had no interest in. I perfected this talent after having been married for a year to a man who could talk about the pros and cons of different kinds of bait and tackle for hours on end. Stone, on the other hand, could not resist yawning and sighing when I babbled on about a deal I’d found on faux leather shoes and how I thought I should return to the store to buy one in every color they offered. In fact, he’d once fallen asleep as I was telling him about my desire to search the Internet for a good chicken Florentine recipe. I was just explaining the importance of using the perfect seasoning combination of garlic, basil, and thyme, when Stone’s head fell back on the couch and he began to rattle the blinds with his snoring.
    I exchanged introductions with the two ladies, while Norma was signing her book, which she guaranteed would save me a lot of money on groceries and household products. I asked Sarah about the crowd around the third author’s table, as though I’d never heard of the book or its author.
    “Oh, that’s Fanny Finch, signing copies of her book about the country and western singer, Vex Vaughn. Personally, I find the sensational facts she attributes to ‘a reliable source’ to be questionable and unethical, but apparently, there are a lot of people who like that kind of thing. Personally, I think she used a liberal dose of creative license in the process of debasing the singer.”
    “But it appears a lot of people enjoy seeing a famous person humbled, or in this case, demeaned,” I replied in agreement. “Not me, however. If the singer wanted to air all his dirty laundry in public, he’d write his own autobiography about his life. I find it