Well, you're looking at the first copy, hot off the press, of Laugh, Cry, Eat Some Pie! It's not available until August 3rd (except in my home, where I've taken to strapping it to my body in a rather disturbing commitment to effectively bond with it). Writing a book is kind of like birthing a child, you know...a little gnashing of teeth, pulling of hair, threatening people with various forms of dismemberment, weeping uncontrollably. And then a little while later you get this beautifully wrapped little baby and somehow it all seems worth it.
So I figured I'd snap a pic of the little cherub with my handy Blackberry to show it off in blogland and I had to take nine different snapshots before I found a surface in my home that wasn't wickedly smarmed up with kid-gunk or littered with more trash and clutter than I care to share with the world. (I mean it's bad enough that I have to face it every day...why should you have to, too?). Finally, the only backdrop I could find was the single cupboard door in my kitchen that wasn't totally buckling under the pressure of alternating layers of dust and fingerprints bearing witness to every meal ever served in this house.
Function over form, baby.
