Post TEDx-matic Blessed Syndrome

Back in January, my stomach squirmed like a snake stuck in a bucket as I gussied up in my favorite fancy jumpsuit. 

I layered on a few necklaces and deliberated over spiky silver sandals or knee-high boots, attempting to assuage my nervousness with accessories.

Where are you going in THAT outfit at ten o’clock in the morning? wondered my spouse over his second cup of Saturday coffee, suddenly a red carpet fashion critic.    

Fine, I’ll lose the feathered headband, I grumbled, pulling on a pair of subdued black flats.   

All this wardrobe waltzing took place in advance of An Afternoon of Literary Excellence hosted by the Savannah chapter of The Links, Inc., the storied service organization founded in 1956 that counts some of our city’s most inspirational—and well-dressed—women leaders as members. 

The invitation to this local event was an honor, and I wanted to make a snazzy impression. I also wanted to sell some damn books. 

At the beginning of the year, I set a goal to attend 20 events to continue promoting The Camellia Thief & Other Tales, reluctantly accepting that unless you are a celebrity with a heroic tale of escaping conservatorship or soar to the bestseller list with sordid vampire fanfic, standing at a table with carefully-arranged copies of your literary children is the best way to free up the space behind the sofa where you’ve been storing the extra boxes.