–noun, plural -ci·os.
1. empty boasting; bragging.
2. a boasting person; braggart.
Since I’m ordinarily not prone to this, I hope you’ll forgive this self-indulgence. But two things have happened since I blogged last that I want to tell the world about. I suspect this may fall under the category of self-aggrandizement, but I hope you’ll see beneath all that to the true fangirl squeeing beneath.
I got an email from Nora Roberts.
No, really. I’m just gonna leave it there because I’d just embarrass myself with embellishment. Anyone who knows me well can imagine all the muffled, gleeful shrieks.
I’m a loyal reader. When I put an author on an autobuy list, it’s next to impossible to move it off. That’s most likely because authors have to really sell me in order to get onto the list in the first place. In regards to my choices for my top 4 authors I reviewed in 2007, two of them are now on that list (one through more reading, reviews of which will be coming in the New Year), and the other two are really close to being autobuys. That’s always a great feeling. I love having authors I can rely on.
She then lists the top three runners up for her favorite author of the year. But guess who she chose as winner for 2007?
Ms. Dean’s books are on my autobuy list. I read three of her stories this year, and while I enjoyed all of them – one quite a bit more than the other two – they’re not the reason I adore her. Her voice is the single most distinctive, most entertaining, most literate voice I read online all year. Hands down. Even when I don’t necessarily care for a character, she keeps me hooked in the story by her clever phrasing, her colorful dialogue, and more. She’s moving into print now, and I have her book, Grimspace, pre-ordered. I didn’t even read the blurb. I just know I want it.
Breathless with delight. That’s the best way I can describe my reaction. It leaves me breathless. I have favorite authors. I’ve never been anyone’s favorite author.
This is why I write, for these moments of connection, when it comes back to me that I’ve written something that moved someone.
This is why I write.
And so, dear readers, I hope you’ll forgive this moment of self-aggrandizement (which is actually something else). I’m humbled today. And I know that I am blessed.