I flew to Indianapolis over the weekend — my first visit to a beautiful, vibrant city made more beautiful but no less vibrant by a blanket of snow.
I was there for a party thrown by my publisher, Luminis Books, celebrating the release of its first three titles and previewing a fourth.
The party took place within the charming confines of Big Hat Books, where I got to see Precarious displayed in a store window instead of a web browser for the first time.
Excited? Me? You better believe it.
A steady stream of people came to wish us all well, and near the end of our time there, the upstairs was packed with people sipping wine, munching crackers and cheese and olives and tiny desserts.
Everyone was talking about books. Our books.
That's when I got the question: "How many of your stories are based on your own life?"
"Three," I said.
Which three, I wasn't saying.
I had never talked so much with so many people about myself and my writing. It was fun, because the good people of Indianapolis seemed genuinely interested.
Twelve people bought my book and asked me to sign it — and I did, with joy and gratitude.