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October 21, 2006

Lights, camera…

...freakishly huge forehead zits!

I was invited to appear on a local morning show this week to talk about the upcoming release of Nearlyweds. (November 7, baby. Hilarious holiday book. Pre-order now and beat the rush!) Now, let me just start this post by saying that authors and TV are not generally a match made in heaven. I believe Stephen King once said something to the effect of, “most writers can’t talk worth a #@#%.” This is all too true in my case. There is a reason I chose a career path that involves almost no social interaction and lots of roundtable discussion with an imaginary cast of thousands in my head. I’m shy. I’m not the most articulate girl on the planet. Dude, I’m the official crazy dog lady of our neighborhood.

But I am also in the business of selling books, and I usually have a great time chatting with the interviewers once the cameras actually start rolling. Plus, I was armed with my new palette of makeup from my nervous breakdown at Sephora last week, and I actually had something appropriate to wear: my sassy new purple blazer. (Which, by the way, I will be wearing for all book-related events all season long, so I hope y’all like purple.) I enthusiastically thanked the producer for inviting me on the show, and set to work figuring out my “talking points”, which are the key pieces of information you want to convey to viewers. (I.e., Nearlyweds, November 7, hilarious holiday book, pre-order now and beat the rush! You are feeling sleepy…verrry sleeeeepy…)

I could do this, I told myself. I could be witty and pithy and charming, no problem! But then it happened. While I was wrangling with my talking points, I felt a faint tingling in my forehead. The tingling intensified to a throb, then a dull ache. Yes, a giant zit was burrowing its way up through the hapless pores on my forehead. And we are not talking some puny little surface blemish. We are talking an angry, shiny red goose egg, the dermatological equivalent of Kilimanjaro.

You can imagine the fallout: whimpering, cursing, desperate and ultimately futile attempts to perform a home facial with witch hazel, Cetaphil, and steam from a pot of boiling water.

“Why?” I fell to my knees on the tile floor (ouch), balled up my fists, and turned my face to the heavens. “WHY????”

There was no reply, save the three dogs slobbering all over my face. The zit was not going anywhere. It had come to teach me a lesson—a lesson in rising above adversity, in humility, in how to apply tinted concealer with a trowel.

The next morning, I tried to arrange my hair in artfully disheveled waves over the goose egg, suited up in my purple blazer, and drove out to the TV station. I reminded myself that even Tyra Banks and Heidi Klum must get giant red zits from time to time. But they don’t let a pimple get between them and a cover shoot! (Of course, they have access to a crackerjack team of professional makeup artists and ample photo retouching, but that is not really the point here, now is it?) The interview went well. I covered all my talking points, I had lots of fun because the interviewer was fabulous, and no one even noticed my zit. I’m pretty sure. At least, no one said anything like “Oh dear God, what is that thing on your forehead? It’s spreading! It’s moving! It’s alive!!!” Which I’m counting as a win.

And now, of course, my zit is gone. My knees, however, remain bruised; our tile floor is really hard. But I learned a poignant and valuable lesson from all this: Nearlyweds, November 7, hilarious holiday book, pre-order now and beat the rush.

Posted by Beth at 12:58 AM | Comments (5)

Comments

Posted by: Whitney at October 21, 2006 4:31 PM

Posted by: Eileen at October 21, 2006 7:56 PM

Posted by: Lani at October 22, 2006 8:47 AM

Posted by: Michelle C at October 22, 2006 9:22 AM

Posted by: Sheri at October 23, 2006 12:25 AM