Who knew that as an author I’d be back auditioning myself and my book for a roomful of strangers who are looking for an easy fix for their booking problems. I was part of a two hour slog, where dozens of other writiers were also delivering their two-minute pitch as we all dutifully clapped every time someone was introduced and then when they finished. The girl next to me couldn’t stop texting except when it was her turn and she suddenly was doing stand up as the Chinese chef of a book for Jewish noshers, “the chosen food for the chosen people.”
What chance did I have next to that and “good girls doing bad things,” or “orthodox Judaism, with sex, drugs and rock and roll?” A novel about gaining insight and striving to fulfill your dreams over the summer of 1943? Who would book me next to Alan Zwiebel? Or the two singing Jewish princesses, dressed in their high heels and aprons, qvelling about only making reservations, not dinner?
But it was an oppoortunity (a very expensive one, I might add) and who am I to say no to any opportunity? I’ll know better next time. Stilettos, mini-skirt, feathers (who cares if I’m too old, it will get attention) and I’ll throw in the sex, drugs and rock and roll or maybe a little klezmer.