I’m going to tell you a truth that’s close to my heart today, so pull up a chair, spend a few moments plotting your escape route (hey, the Zombie Apocalypse waits for no man), and listen up.
I was talking with a friend last night, and I casually mentioned something near and dear to my heart. “Becoming Libba Bray’s new gay BFF is on my bucket list.” And apparently, this whole concept was so hilarious that I was encouraged (nay, harassed) into writing a blog post about it.
So that’s my truth this Tuesday. Someday, my goal in life will unquestionably be to not only meet Libba Bray in person, but get her to admit (on camera would be preferable) just how fantastic I truly am. 😉 Once we are friends, we will go on dramatic adventures (like the time at BEA where we try to find a bathroom only to stumble into a Raiders of the Lost Arc fight to the death in a hotel hallway), commiserate our troubles (where we both go around releasing rabid animals in the hopes of starting a zombie apocalypse so that we have a justifiable reason to miss our deadlines), and generally causing shenanigans wherever we go. Mostly so that we can use the word shenanigans on a regular basis.
I figure that becoming her new BFF is a match made in heaven. She’ll ask me to read her books before they come out in stores (win!). I’ll change the outfits that her characters are wearing (no one in their right mind would wear taffeta to Tequileria), we’ll get Starbucks and loudly talk about that one time we almost broke into Random House at 3 in the morning because we’re writing a scene about a character that breaks into a building called Handom Rouse and we needed to write what we knew. And all of these? Will happen before lunch. That’s just how awesome it will be.
Actually, can’t we just get a show on MTV? Libba Bray’s New BFF? I will totally audition. And my confessional scenes will be quip-tastic.
And let’s be honest. If the stars align next year, I’ll get to attend BEA. And if Libba ALSO happens to attend, that will be a SIGN. I’ll simply HAVE to record a Libba-stalking vlog. But hopefully she won’t whip out the restraining order telling me to keep a minimum distance of 500 feet like SOME people. (I’m looking at YOU, Karsten Knight!)