You would think given my life with a four year-old, a two year-old and a baby due in a matter of weeks that I would spend most of my time reading such adorable books as IS YOUR MAMA A LLAMA, from which I have shamelessly adopted this post's title. But this is not the truth. Being a reader with an endless appetite, I sometimes consume so many books I find that I have, as though devouring a box of Cheez-its in a single gulp, read so many books in a month that I can't remember a single thing about any of them. Compulsive reading at its worst.
Perhaps it's no coincidence then that my life as a published writer began with my life as a real mother. (As opposed to the mother of many dolls that I was for so many years of my childhood. Six Cabbage Patch Kids, for one thing.) I began writing THIS LITTLE MOMMY STAYED HOME during my son's nap time when he was about nine months old. By the time he was a year-and-a-half, I had a two-book contract.
The rewards? Well, as far as my novel goes, nothing has been more satisfying than hearing from readers who love the book, in particular mothers who have found it to be a wonderful, healing, humorous, wacky kind of salvation, as the book ruefully follows a new mother through the first nine months of mommy boot camp (for which there is no adequate preparation).