I shyly introduced myself to the attendant, who was delighted; he had me sign all the books in stock and then he placed them out at the front of the store. He also had me sign a book they keep behind the counter just for authors who come through. The whole experience was lovely.

I got on the plane. 2500 miles later, I got off the plane, and headed for the baggage check. I saw the airport bookstore. The moment I saw it, I winced with the realization that now I would always expect to find my book in an airport bookstore. Its absence would never again be neutral, but always negative. The moment that a wish was fulfilled, my psyche converted it from “Wouldn’t it be great?” to “Well, of COURSE” and immediately upped the stakes. If only I could get that ol’ ego in check, and be cheerfully indifferent to outcome, immune to expectation.

I’m not sure why this is true, but I’m pretty sure it always is. (Happy to hear exceptions!) When I “hang” a character on a Real-Life Super-Charismatic Person, the character tends to strike readers as annoying (just received notes on a new novel manuscript in which this was the case, but it’s not the first time I’ve had this experience). Even when I try to describe the escapades of a particularly charismatic friend, listeners will frequently give my storytelling a wide berth and wonder why I am so fond of this person.

On the other hand, the characters I find charismatic in books would probably irritate me enormously if I met them in real life. It is precisely because I don’t have to deal with them in any real way that I am free to have literary crushes on them. Mr. Darcy (I’m not talking Colin Firth, I’m talking Mr. Darcy) would strike me as insufferable. Francis Crawford of Lymond would probably nauseate me, although he’s my biggest literary crush.

The isn’t about how admirable or even lovable a character is – just how charming they are. Atticus Finch I would adore, and probably even Kilgore Trout. (Sydney Carton is a question mark.) But spare me from having to actually get on with Lancelot, Robin Hood, or even Peter Pan.

I have no idea why the Fiction/Reality Charisma Boundary is impermeable, but I can’t think of any exceptions. Can you?

When a novel is reviewed on a blog, readers post comments. Per my publisher’s request, I read them. It’s gratifying to hear that someone is a fan of my work; that’s a simple emotional response. But one review was followed by a reader’s comment (I’m paraphrasing) saying, “Oh, I read one of her books and liked it, but didn’t love it.” Boy, that stung! Someone did not utterly love my darlings as I did.

A couple of days later, a reader commented that she would check out I, Iago on the strength of the positive review, but that “I have read one of Galland’s other novels and really, really didn’t like it.” (She used some cyber-lingo I wasn’t familiar with that I assume was not affectionate.) For some strange reason, that didn’t sting at all – I was actually tickled by it. In a bizarre way, it made me feel powerful. I don’t know which novel it was, and why she didn’t like it, but it made a big impression on her… and that stung less than faint praise that was, in fact, praise.

I thought I wanted to be liked; what I really want is to be taken seriously. No idea what this means, what it says about my psyche. Wondering if anyone else has ever had a similar experience.

Teddy Rose, one of the collaborators of the collective, is also hosting a give-away of a couple of copies of my book.

Somebody opens a hamburger stand or convenience store in their hometown and the locals are proud of that success… but once it’s McDonalds or Walmart, it’s no longer “hometown kid makes good.” At what moment in time did Whole Foods go from being a cool indie health food store in Austin, TX that was thriving enough to move out of Austin… to a huge upscale chain that devours other  (smaller, still-only-locally-owned) health food stores? At what point will Trader Joe’s be considered a similar phenomenon? Remember when Amazon.com was just a cool alternative way to buy books, and didn’t even turn a profit for 7 years?

I wish I better understood where the threshold lies, and why the Collective Conscious seems to change its attitude when that threshold is crossed.

I’d posted an image showing my political leanings (left of center). This person’s views are different (I respect that) and they expressed themselves vociferously and with great commitment (I respect that). I don’t know the person well, having met only once or twice through a mutual friend. And having met in those halcyon days of thinking it was really cool how FB could make the world more connected, for surely connection is always a good thing, right?

Turns out connections allow for both the good and the bad, no matter if they are real-life or virtual. An actual friend, somebody decades my senior I’ve known my whole life, replied to the FB-only-Friend’s post with firm but polite disagreement (I respect that).

The FB-only-friend (who has never met the real friend) replied with more intense commitment to their political position (I respect that).

Then he insulted my real friend’s integrity and intelligence, and finished by calling her a knucklehead.

I scolded him on the link, telling him I’d de-friend him if he behaved like that. That was imprecise language; I wish I’d said, “Either you apologize right now or I will defriend you.” After further thought – since he had not acknowledged the knuckle-headedness of his own behavior – I went ahead and defriended him.

I did it without rancor – but since I’m the sort of person who ALWAYS want to get along with EVERYONE, I gave myself a pat on the back on it.

Then, as I thought about it, I realized that if a real friend had called a FB-only-friend a knucklehead, I would have made the same comment, but would never consider defriending them. Their real-friend-ness would trump the other person’s FB-only-friendness, and the insult would not have seemed so egregious to me. I’d have held them to different standards, been more lax.

Which suggests, for me at least, that at the end of the day, the weight and meaning of connections on FB are pretty much the same as those made in real-life relationships.

That doesn’t mean none of the people I’ve befriended via FB are real friends. I have several “pen pals” I’ve never met in real life with whom I have formed genuine bonds – because our communication is private and thoughtful and personal. And I don’t mind having the more superficial acquaintances on Facebook, for that happens in real life too. But when my FB page allows people  I’m not close to to insult people dear to me, that’s a problem, and I need to decide what I want to do about it.

…and it wasn’t at all terrifying or icky like I was afraid it was going to be.  I still don’t quite jive with Tweeting (it still feels like a lot of people riding around in cyberspace with bumper stickers not reading each other’s bumper stickers). But a week ago I never would have guessed that I could be even the teensiest bit comfortable with cyber-anything beyond Facebook.

How ironic that comfort with 21st-century technology comes from interacting with bloggers and readers who are preoccupied with historical fiction.

Here’s the latest.

Here’s the first online review from Elle Lit.This being my first pub-date-ish on-line review, I appreciate what intelligent, thoughtful commentary she provides.

Here‘s a nice online review from the blog Dwell in Possibility. Again, I’m grateful for the intelligence and insight with which she reviews.

Here’s a piece the wonderful C.W. Gortner invited me to write for his blog, Historical Boys.

And here’s a nice bit from Patch.com’s Martha’s Vineyard chapter.

Have a lovely day.