~from Ami
My mystery, NEXT OF KIN, comes out this August, and I just received several dust jackets in the mail. I always thought that these would be the happiest days of my life--this was my dream since the third grade!

But the cover is so not me and not my book that it's got me all in a state of depression. On the one hand, the cover is eye-catching, bright and bloody- perfect for a creepy mystery novel. Problem is, NEXT OF KIN is not creepy or bloody. Nor does the giant Western font of the title make any sense.

I'm at the mercy of New York here. I only hope what's in between the covers (!) is what will really count.

Remember the scene in "Back to the Future" when Marty McFly returns to the present to find his family prosperous and attractive, and his father receives his shipment of author's copies of his sci-fi book? The whole family is thrilled and they all celebrate. This is the picture I had in mind for myself. And now I feel like I'll get the UPS delivery and just sit and stare at the unopened box.

My dad asked me today what it felt like to see my name on the cover. I said, "It feels like looking at yourself trying on swimsuits under fluorescent lighting." Hard to look at. It's very hard for me to look at.

More on this later!