With Friends like These . . .,,, or, Just Weird** (and not so interesting. Sorry)

I actively sold my books -- I sent out ARCs, did a couple of interviews and a couple other standard authory things. But I cannot seem to push friends' books. (and I'm not doing such a fabulous job at pushing Summer's books either. I guess she doesn't feel like she's me?)

Occasionally someone will say something like "I want to read a western!" and I'll recommend Teresa. Or once someone mentioned they really like zany first person and I said try Flo. Someone moaned about a lack of witty Traditional Regencies and I said check out Megan.

But those are the exception, not the rule. And I don't just barge into conversations about Under-rated Authors and start gushing on and on about their books, the way I did about Pamela Britton -- whom I don't know.

Part of this is based on a version reality: I might have the urge to announce that I LOVE THIS BOOK, but my name is there on Amazon and ack, I know I know her and I know she knows I know her and . . .what about the books she writes I don't love? What happens when I love a person and don't like her books? Anyway, I decided to not write any more reviews.

But THEN I decided that was stupid and I am making a big deal over little potatoes. I wanted to mend my ways but turns out I'm stuck in this peculiar potatoes mode.

I recently joined an online group that is very firmly in the "you will write reviews for your friends--we must support one another" camp. I dutifully went to Amazon and wrote a review -- it was pretty easy because I think the book is good.

I couldn't hit send.

Here's the sick part: If she'd been a total stranger? I would have been there days earlier, writing that review.

Aaaaack!

Part of the reason I can bellow across the boards about Bonnie Dee and A M Riley (two e-book writers I've read lately) without any prompting is that I have not had correspondence with them. I wouldn't know them if I ran into them on the street and I don't know their favorite recipe for tomato sauce. So it feels okay to say I like their books. I know my reaction is not tainted ( a word that's been severely tainted, thank you Jon Stewart) by my fondness for them.

But honestly, I need to label this a neurosis and Work Past It. Maybe I'll start by putting a friend's cover here.

Little steps.

Here: I enjoy Ari's fun books--they're escapist treats.

That didn't hurt, did it, Kate? I really like her book that's coming out tomorrow, Sable Flame, but it has a Poser cover and the guy's torso scared the bejeebers out of me. . . oh dear. I was doing so well, too. Ari's prolly thinking with a friend like that. . .

I need more practice.

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** I wrote a note in AngieW's blog that was downright bizarre and that got me thinking about this again.
and WHY CAN I NOT SPELL WEIRD? it looks weird no matter how I write it.