Here is, by far, the weirdest part about being an author in the 21st century.
I just Googled myself (mom said I’d go blind doing that) and found a lovely review from a librarian in Howard County, Maryland.
Her name is Eve and she wrote this absolutely lovely little review of my novel, and I’ve never been to Howard County, never been to Maryland. She has nothing to be gained by being nice to me. If the world of thrillers was a restaurant, Steig Larsson would be the manager, and I’d be the guy peeling potatoes over the sink. Yet here’s this terrific little, three-paragraph review by a municipal employee who’s probably underpaid and overworked (if Maryland is anything like Oregon) telling patrons, Hey! Here’s a nice book. Read this.
Eve? As a journalist, I covered local government for 20 years. Trust me when I say: You rock so hard I fear lives will be lost.