Perspective has arrived, in the form of my husband.

I was grumbling about all of the bumps in the road that arise in the days before publication -- the TV shows that declined to have me as a guest, the TV show that did invite me, then changed its mind about ten minutes before I was going to get on a plane, the high-minded reviewers who think you have to have an MFA or a penis (and, preferably, both) before they'll deign to notice your work, and think chick lit's the printed equivalent of used chewing gum stuck to your shoes.

"Just remember," Adam said. "At this point with IN HER SHOES, you had just found out that the book had the exact same cover as BEST FETISH EROTICA."

Too true.