I thought, at least Oprah.
I mean, I didn’t have a child in captivity, so I knew the movie deal was out.
But sixteen months, that’s gotta be worth a book deal at at least a small imprint of a larger publisher?
I shouldn’t have to self-publish after spending sixteen months of my childhood locked in a basement!
My agent said the market is flooded with similar stories right now, but that “the tide would ebb.”
She said that after the TV movie came out in the early 90s, locking kids up in the basement became like, “a thing.”
And apparently I was like the last of those captively held children to grow up and get an MFA so I have to wait on my book deal.
I have scars. I have scars!
Look, right here, on my wrists, from the chafing of the handcuffs.
No I wasn’t handcuffed as a kid. She just locked the basement door. Duh!
It was supposed to be for the book trailer. I just didn’t realize that I wouldn’t be able to unlock the handcuffs once both my hands were cuffed.
I wasn’t trying to relive my childhood. No! Why would I do that? My childhood was awful, duh, didn’t you read the article?
Yes, I should have gotten help filming. But I’ve made book trailers before and did fine on my own, thank you. it was just I accidentally set down the key.
Well, maybe it would have been easier for me to form the kind of trusting relationships that would allow a young author to get help filming a book trailer if I hadn’t been locked in a basement for sixteen months as a child, did you ever think about that?
No it wasn’t embarrassing when the police found me. I needed help!
No I didn’t do it on purpose to get attention. The prosecutor didn’t even end up charging me.
The reports showed up at my house at like, 6am, the next morning after the cops freed me, with like a full news crew. I wasn’t even ready. I looked terrible. I wouldn’t look terrible on TV on purpose.
How can I prove it wasn’t a stunt? They didn’t use my headshot! Not even for the stills. If I had truly wanted to be on the news I would have insisted on them using my head shot.
Yeah, $1,000. That’s how much the headshot cost. They do your hair and makeup too.
No, they don’t speak English.
It looks great though, right? Did you see it? Here’s a signed copy.
Still, I am glad for the exposure. You have to be. Plus, I’m all about gratitude. Without my mother locking me in the basement for sixteen months I never would have written this book.
Yes, I forgive my mother for the trauma she put me through. That was part of the process of writing the book.
Anger? Sure, I have anger, I hurt, but who I am really upset at is Harper Collins for saying they were going to publish the book and then dropping it six months later after all those other locked-up child memoirs came out.
No, I didn’t get an advance. But my agent had a verbal agreement from the editor. Who she’s been friends with for 20 years.
They weren’t even good! That’s what really hurts. Elizabeth Gilbert was going to blurb MY book. I took her private seminar in the Gullah Islands of Georgia. There were sixty of us. It was super hard to get into. I had to submit 20 pages of writing. The application fee was $500! Which you didn’t get back if she didn’t accept you. When she showed up on the last day of the workshops (other teachers led the first few days, they were great), she said my work was “searing!” That’s what she said she would say on the blurb! She changed my life. Aside from my mother locking me in the basement, I owe everything I am today to Elizabeth Gilbert.
I should have another excerpt coming out soon.
No not on HuffPo. No not Slate. It’s a new all women online journal. Roxanne Gay is supposed to be involved. It’s on Substack, but like a subpage. The Bleeder. It’s supposed to go live in April as their feature.
I mean, I wouldn’t say that I’m self publishing. The book is down, and I’ve printed some copies but it’s more of a limited run. My agent said not to put it on Amazon in case another house wants to come in and pick it up.
She’s one of the top agents.
But I appreciate you coming to this craft fair. Print’s not dead!
I’m doing another one next week.
Sign up for my class at the library too!
No you don’t have to have trauma to write trauma.
That’s why I’m there.
To teach you!
No I’m not on Facebook anymore. Yeah, it’s so toxic.
Just Instagram!
Of course I’ll follow you back, my lovelies!