So here’s the sad truth- when people call me a fat, middle-aged, opportunistic, talentless, skank, it sometimes HURTS MY FEELINGS! Sniffle, sniffle. Whine. Eat. Call for emergency botox touch-up. And for some reason, the self-hater within would much prefer to dwell on the negative rantings of people who in other times would be holding pitchforks and waiting with a match at every witch burning within a donkey-ride of their village, than on the much larger list of the supportive comments of people who have told me that they’re inspired by my honesty. But I’m trying, I really am, to go where the love is.
Thank Goddess for the “Block this Asshole” option on Facebook.
Being theoretically prepared for the release of my memoir is different from the reality of having my guts spilling out of those little box thingys that hold the free newspapers all over town. This is shaping up to be quite a ride.
A porn star/author friend of mine told me to hold my head up and dare them to think poorly of me. And she should know.
One week until the book is released. Here we go…