Sue and I kid alot about being bitter. Ok, so sometimes we're not kidding. But seriously, it's always a surprise when I bump into someone who has been festering, just waiting for such an opportunity to unload years of bitterness.
Recently, my alumni journal did a small feature article about my book. There have been a smattering of email responses to order the book. Then there are those who just plain came out of the woodwork.
For instance, one guy remembered me fondly but didn't know if I remembered him. He said he still has a picture of me in fuzzy tiger slippers (not the type of photo that would keep me from pageantry greatness, just an unusual choice of footwear for the dorms). I wrote back that I did remember him but not the slippers. This is true. However, I'm sure I liked the slippers more.
This is why real authors have publicists. Soon Sue will be doing double duty of both yenta and publicist. Make that fake publicist.
The kicker was an email from a former roommate who managed to ostracize herself by feeding a huge drama with her own bizarre behavior. She had a nice enough opening paragraph but then went on to wonder why myself and others "just stopped liking her." She also invited me to be her friend again if I now thought differently than I did then. Huh?
Nothing like offering an olive branch, then whapping me over the head with it.