Feeling, Nothing More Than Feeling

Yesterday, I went to my Happy Place. No, not the depths of my brain, which is like Morticia Addams’ shoe closet. Come to think of it, my shoe closet is like Morticia Addams’ shoe closet. My brain is more like my upstairs vintage clothing closet: cramped and colorful and in need of some purging.

No, my Happy Place is my supermarket. I love me some grocery shopping. Fueled by an eggnog latte purchased at the in-store Starbucks kiosk (where those Starbucks people cleverly figured out I would never go unless it were an in-store kiosk), I went tra-la-la, coupons in hand, reading glasses perched on my rhinoplastied nose, gaily down the aisles.

Nice lady pushing her cart by me said, “You’re not that gal who writes that column, are you?” To which I replied, “Yes, I’m Wendy.” To which she proceeded to tell me how much she likes it. And me. In very many overly kind words. Which made my head swell far beyond its subliminal closet of vintage clothing, submerged in eggnog latte. (Tall, light, no whip.)

I ain’t gonna lie. Grrrrl needs a pat on the back once in a while.

Especially since I recently learned that I hurt someone’s feeling. Singular. A small one. Big or small, I never mean to hurt feeling(s), as I am not that way, no matter how badass I pretend to be. Turns out someone wasn’t acknowledged in the acknowledgements page of my novel and brought it to my attention and now I feel terrible.

I shouldn’t feel terrible, since there was no intention behind the omission—as in the case of people who are professional badassed feeling-hurters—but I feel terrible anyway.

That’s why, in my next book, I MURDERED THE SPELLING BEE (which is almost done) there will be no acknowledgements. I’m going to thank "everybody" and say “you know who you are,” and that way, my friends, family and acquaintances will know they’ve been acknowledged. Or perhaps it will backfire and they will believe they have been intentionally omitted. In which case, I’m going to my closet—the real one upstairs—sit among the cramped and colorful vintage clothes, and have another latte. Maybe gingerbread this time.

Check out fellow Zumaya Publications author Kage Alan’s blog! He’s got some great holiday gift ideas, including a blurb on how you can get your signed copy of I MURDERED THE PTA.