So I looked up my favourite author on Facebook and he was there and I sent him a message just politely checking if he was the right fella and he has sent me a really nice reply and now I am in a fix because I really, really want to tell him how fantastic his books are and how one in particular kinda changed my life - it made me want to write myself
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My fear of looking foolish is equal to my fear of not saying the right thing which is equal to my fear of missing opportunities.
Thus I end up looking more like a rabbit caught in the headlights than I did in the first place.
But I will write something - it would surely be rude not to; and sure enough, being rude is a fear of mine too!
Thanks for giving me a little push!!
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(The comment has been removed)
You're very right about the flailing and stuttering. That would be me, whilst furiously blushing and simutaneously kicking myself. Fun all round.
I will get to the bottom of this (so to speak) I just needed to get that flail out of my system!
Thanks, hon.
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And aw, come on. Tell him his work got you into gay fiction. Tell him his writing makes you happy. Tell him whatever you feel about his books. Unless he's some kind of strange new breed of author, he'll be pretty pleased.
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You're right, you're right. This is of course, the price I pay for admiring the work of published authors who are still alive.
*gets firm rip on self*
(It's Nicholas Blincoe, BTW)
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(And an unexpected arse icon!)
*hugs safely, now flailing has stopped*
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My flist are quite excellent at becalming me - muchos thanks ;)
It's Nicholas Blincoe and it was his 'Manchester Slingback' that set me on this wonderful road.
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