When words collide

Last night I had the opportunity to meet one of my favorite writers, Stephanie Klein, at the book signing for her new coming-of-age memoir, Moose.

My mom introduced me to her first book, Straight Up and Dirty, about a year ago. I read it in three days. Since then, I have been reading her blog, Greek Tragedy, and following along with the ups and downs of her life - from afar, of course, in true blogger style: getting intimately familiar with the details of her life without actually knowing her.

A few weeks ago I saw that she was coming to a bookstore only a mile away from my office. I'm there! I thought. It's too good to pass up! And then a small cosmic turn of events happened that made me even more excited to go.

New reader Desiree randomly left her first comment on my blog the other day, so naturally I went to her blog to check it out. The top post just happened to be about her coordinating raffle items for this exact event, and did anyone have any ideas. Um, our store is in Pasadena, and our products are ideal for the book's target genre. I happen to be the person in charge of gift basket requests, and this could not be a better fit. Not that she had known any of this when she commented.

So I volunteered my products and met Desiree last night (she's very pretty and nice by the way) and we talked about blogging and our backgrounds - again, familiar with the persona but not the person. Then Stephanie came out and warmed up the crowd, and read some excerpts from her book to engage us. As if we needed any encouragement to buy it. Preaching to the choir, you might say.

Now, I had always thought I had a lot in common with her - the New York thing, the camp thing, the half-Jewish thing, etc. That's fairly common with bloggers, though - we find a few similarities to which we relate and then fill in the blanks with our own ideas of what they might be like. But some of the stuff she spoke about went into a more in-depth, psychological level, and really mirrored a lot of the same thoughts and feelings I've had running through my head for the last few months. Her issues are different than mine on the surface, but really, not at all dissimilar. I sat in the front row fully engaged, sure she must be thinking I'm some sort of crazy person not capable of breaking eye contact.

I ended up being the first in line for the signing, and before I could introduce myself, she said, "How do I know you? I've seen your face before." Flattered (!!!), but suddenly shy, I told her that I've commented on her blog once or twice and perhaps she'd clicked on my handle. She concurred that yes, maybe that was it, but neither of us seemed convinced. We clearly recognized something in each other.

I gave her my name, and my mom's name (Mom, of course I got you a copy!) and stammered a bit telling her what I did and where I lived and all that. I didn't even look at the inscription until after I had paid for the books downstairs. And to my not-so-surprise, it started with a sentence plucked from my own brain, a common theme but one relevant to me nonetheless. I don't know if, by my rapt attention during certain parts of her reading, she inferred what I wanted to hear (or, rather, read) or whether I'm attracted to her writing because this is what it's fundamentally about. But I left feeling connected, like coincidence was on my side.

Oh, and of course, I can't wait to read the book.