Books hooked me young. One of my favorite childhood hobbies was pretending to be asleep until my parents went to bed, then reading under the covers with a flashlight until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I can’t tell you how many pictures there are of me fast asleep in bed, still holding a book in front of my nose.
I never really imagined meeting the authors of my favorite books. There was one point in my life where I thought all authors of published books were dead. (It’s a dangerous career!) Even once I realized that having a book published did not mean instantaneous termination, meeting someone brilliant enough to have written a book seemed about as likely as meeting Buzz Aldrin.
Then along came Writing Excuses.
The three of them (this was pre-Mary) were supposed to come visit my class at BYU, but Brandon couldn’t make it, so we got the Dan and Howard Show. After a ten-minute discussion about Dan and bacon, a string of good-natured jibes at the absent Brandon, and Howard spilling water all down his pants accidentally-on-purpose, I realized:
Authors are people too!
Granted, many of them still hold celebrity status in my eyes. I’m still pretty giddy that I have a personalized autographed copy of The False Prince. But the more authors I meet and become friends with, the more I realize that authors eat and sleep and read. Authors worry about their kids and go out to dinner with friends. Authors write things that are truly awful sometimes, and it’s okay, because they’re not actually perfect brilliant geniuses who spill forth fountains of pure eloquence from their pens (or printers) on the very first try. They just keep hammering away until they get it right.
I’ve connected with many authors in the short time I’ve had this blog, and they are all delightful people whom I wish I could meet for lunch sometime. And I feel incredibly lucky that I get to officially join their ranks when my book hits the shelves on December 9th!