WHAT MATTERS

by Trish Jensen

There isn’t a week that goes by when I’m not asked to give a workshop, do a book signing, send someone in Armenia  a book, write a blog, whatever.

I’m shy, (seriously!)  so I turn down most workshops, no way I’m doing a book  signing, as no one will show up, can’t afford the book to Armenia, but I can write a blog and talk about what matters.

For a few months my mother has been bugging me to come chat with her book club. The problem was, no one was interested in buying my books, they wanted me to donate them, or wanted them from a library. Well, that posed a problem, as I didn’t have enough books to donate to at least twenty women , and I couldn’t afford to buy them all books, either. It was also kind of irritating that they expected me to do those things when I really wasn’t doing cartwheels at the thought of going to this chat in the first place.

But, you know, it was my MOTHER. And she wanted me to do this so much. So we compromised. I gave her about 8 or so books, all different, and then we set a time, a few months in the future, so they’d all have time to read and pass on books. So they didn’t all read the same books, but at least they all read one of my books.

One other glitch. The woman who runs the book club is very, VERY religious. Trust me, I have nothing against that, as my critique partner is, also, and she writes some of the sexiest books on the shelves. But this woman wasn’t sure she wanted a :::gasp::: writer who has love scenes visiting.

My mother, ever the bulldog, loaned her my LEAST sexiest book, and she said okay, even though it was very racy. Brace yourself, lady. You haven’t seen anything yet. And I don’t even WRITE sexy, in my opinion. I write sexual tension between two people who so do NOT want to be attracted to each other.

But the day came, and I had to face all of these women and discuss WHY I write what I write, and what I love about this job.

I’m guessing it went really well. My mother said she was “busting her buttons” with pride. And I found out later that night that my dad stood outside listening. And he was proud, too.

I received a lot of feedback from those who attended, and who want me to come back, and that’s all well and good, and I’m glad.

But making my parents proud? THAT’S what mattered.

Tags: