I’m going to take a page from my pal Rhonda and deem this Whine about it Wednesday cause I might as well call it what it is. Saturday I’ll be in Huntsville for a Reader’s Luncheon. I like these events. Romance readers are, for the most part, very nice, very interesting people. It’s THE BASKET that’s problematic.

Every author is supposed to bring a basket filled with goodies, usually built around a theme. Participants can buy raffle tickets for a chance to win the baskets. Each author has to get up in front of the crowd and “showcase” her/his basket and tell what’s in it. You should see some of the baskets these authors put together with some clever, catchy theme, chock full of stuff that has the crowd oohing and ahhing, and it’s beautifully, artfully displayed. Then there are the kind of pitiful baskets where you see the audience exchanging furtive glances that silently shout, I hope I don’t get screwed and stuck with that one! It’s tremendous pressure — like a friggin’ float competition for a parade.

I’m going to give you two guesses, and the second one doesn’t count, which one of those categories by basket falls into.:wallbash: The smart thing to do would be to collect tidbits, things, here and there when you find them throughout the year — at least that’s what one veteran “uber” basket turner-outer told me once. That’d be grand but I don’t like to shop and even if I bought this stuff ahead of time, I wouldn’t be able to find it on the fateful day.

Since I’m whining, I might as well do it up right. I’m not artful. All of my imagination comes out in words. I’ve got a couple of buddies who could take horse manure and arrange it to be eyecatching and lovely. I, on the other hand, am not so gifted.

I need to work on this book. I’m driving soccer carpool tonight. I’m starting swimming lessons in between the carpool gig. I need to work on this book. My hair is being cut and colored. I need to work on this book. I have to pack for and be ready to leave for Huntsville Friday morning. And I need a damn basket to take.:cursing:

I’m seriously toying with the idea of an I Suck At Shopping basket. No candles, no chocolates, no picnic sets, no bubblebath…just a high-dollar gift-card to Barnes&Noble because the recipient is, after all and foremost, a reader…:bowdown:

Is it not almost elegant in its simplicity?

Brilliant or lazy?

Will I be lauded or have rotten fruit figuratively sent my way?

What say ye?