One day (many years ago) I strolled into work, minding my own business, when I saw my friend Ingy reading a book called "Good In Bed."
Wow. That's super-ballsy to just bring your porn to work and read it in the open, right?
Not that I know anything about, or partake in, any such porny things, loveys.
*casually slides foot under the bed, shoving things a little further back*
Where was I? Oh, yes. So naturally, I did what any good friend would do, and called her out on it. She responded by loaning me that book, (totally not porn, by the way), thereby introducing me to Jennifer Weiner, and changing my life.
*cue coming-of-age music here*
I was hooked on Weiner!
(Time-out: The name is pronounced WY-ner, not WEE-ner. I know, I know. It'd be way funnier if I was hooked on WEE-ner. Well, I kind of am. I mean, I do love a good--Wait. Stop it, loveys! You know how easily I get sidetracked!)
Anyhoo. Back to Jennifer.
After "Good In Bed" came "In Her Shoes." Perhaps you recognize that one, since it became a movie starring Cameron Diaz? Hmm?
"The Guy Not Taken." "Goodnight Nobody." "Fly Away Home." "Best Friends Forever." "Certain Girls."
I gobbled her novels like candy. And in between, any article, blog post, Tweet, etc. that my idol wrote, I found, devoured, saved and re-read.
Then it happened, loveys. Jennifer Weiner had a St. Louis stop on one of her book tours. I was going to meet this chick, face-to-face. And I was going to try not to do the hysterical Bieber-fever crying when I did.
I didn't know what to expect, since I'd never met (or really even cared to meet) any other author before. I mean, she's whip-smart, she's uber-successful, and she has nerves of steel. (Step aside, Allred.) The kind of gal you're glad to have other girls looking up to. I was way nervous.
But Jennifer came, looking like the #1 chick-lit author that she is. She beamed from the stage, rocking the most beautiful, floral summer dress, wearing the most natural, soft makeup to complement her tan, and an absolutely gorgeous, shiny head of highlights...And then she spoke.
I think maybe the 3rd or 4th word out of her mouth was "cock." I sat 3 rows back, looking up at that eloquent Princeton grad at the podium, cracking penis jokes, telling drunk stories, and tossing out the "F" word like it's "the." She had her comedic timing down-pat, like a seasoned improv actor. She was charming and humble and gracious. She did the impossible, and made me love her even more.
I rubbed my eyes, just to be sure I hadn't accidentally wandered into a Chelsea Handler show.
But no, my eyes weren't deceiving me. This author, this bookworm, was no writer-nerdgirl. She was, in a word, cool. Rockstar, badass, and really, truly authorific. Just cool on a whole 'nother level.
So after she finished speaking, we all lined up for her to sign our books. When it was my turn, 2 things happened:
1) The stranger I'd asked to take our picture just couldn't figure out how to work that big, obvious button at the top of my camera, so I ended up lingering, leaning in extra-close and clutching my idol for a couple of super-awkward minutes, completely oblivious of how creepy I probably was to her until I saw the picture of her defensive stance later.
|I'm not gonna go all "Swimfan," I swear.|
2) I asked her if she'd ever thought of writing a "How I write" kind of book for writers. Kind of like Stephen King's "On Writing," but funny.
She asked if I was a writer.
I said I'm trying.
And she said - are you ready for this, loveys? She said, "Well, contact me when you're published, and I'll write you a blurb."
Guys, did you see that?
Jennifer Weiner, reigning queen of Author-Awesome, said "when."
Not "if." She said when.
In that moment, and with that one word, she made me believe, I mean really, truly believe, that I'll be a published author.
And that, my loveys, was my own Moment of Jen.
For your own moments of Jen, I'd highly recommend you also stake out any appearances she may have. Also, buy her books. And any magazines she's featured in.
This month, Allure magazine (Blake Lively's on the cover.) features the most poignant, beautiful essay you will ever read about the "F" word. (No, not that "F" word, you pervs! What is it with you guys?)
*shoves things under the bed just a tad further*
The "F" word here is fat. I promise you will never look at it the same way again. You can read it here.
Check her out at: www.jenniferweiner.com