47688513_5697d77544Remember in junior high, how you’d carry your cardboard lunch tray through the gauntlet between cafeteria tables, warily looking for a place to eat your mystery meat and drink your milk out of the carton? The definition of a dork was the girl who plopped down wherever there was a spot open with a peppy “Hi, girls! This seat taken?” heedless of the vibes that were emanating from those already seated that screamed “Don’t even think of bringing our cool table property values down!”

The whole pre-publication experience (the book isn’t out until Tuesday, but there’s been a lot of debate about the topic and the message) has been an exercise in wedging my Formerly butt in wherever there’s a seat, in any media that will write about the book, and letting the vibes and the comments fly.

I’ve obviously become one of the aforementioned dorks in my Formerly year–an excellent development. I’ve forgotten who I’m supposed to think is cool and want to impress and instead am trying to be myself and let the book speak for itself. I’ve fielded (and overreacted to) some snarkitude from the emo crowd and the Heathers, but for the most part, the women I’ve met and “met” electronically have been incredibly supportive and downright cheerleader-ish. (As in, they’re cheering the book on, not the stereotypical mean cheerleader who lives to exclude.)

So this is a thanks to all my excellent friends, especially the women. I wish we knew one another in high school. (And if you feel like it, send your girls a free e-card.)

Photo: Rochelle et al. CC