Did you know that I have a book coming out? If you’ve visited any of your social media channels even once in the past month, you should know. It is very important for the world to know that I have written a book that is actually getting published so I have posted pictures of the following: me writing my book; me editing my book; me pressing send on an email to my editor; a Boomerang of me opening a box of my finished books; a video of me in Barnes & Noble finding my book; a repost of every single reader who posted a picture of themselves reading my book; every review I’ve ever gotten (with negative bits artfully cropped out); and, of course, the obligatory publication day bonanza photo that I doctored with confetti. They really should create a dedicated “I wrote a book” emoji. Need to speak to someone in Silicon Valley about that.

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Did you know that I have a book coming out? You should know because you’ve been invited to at least five different readings and six different parties celebrating my accomplishments. Wait! You’re kidding, right? Are you absolutely sure that other people don’t throw parties for themselves just for doing their jobs? That’s so strange. Are you telling me that if you finished your accounting reports on time and did all the work for which you were contractually obligated you wouldn’t have a cocktail party to celebrate? Interesting. Anyway… If you aren’t tired after working a long day at your regular-person job, it would be just the best if you’d come out and listen to me read an eight-minute passage from my book and eat sweaty cheese to toast my triumph. I wouldn’t normally ask anyone to drive to the Poughkeepsie Public Library all the way from Manhattan, but it’s really embarrassing when only five people show up so I NEED YOU THERE. I would do this for you, assuming you were a good enough writer to publish a book.

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Did you know I have a book coming out? I hope so because I’ve begged you to buy it, review it, tell your friends about it, and rent a blimp to advertise it. Wait, small correction. I didn’t beg you to buy a copy. I begged you to buy twenty copies. Because I know how great your bookshelves will look lined with my blue spines and that you won’t mind spending a few hundred dollars to support me. You need Christmas gifts anyway. So what if it’s only July? I guess it’s a little surprising that you design sneakers for a living and you haven’t pestered me to buy multiple pairs of shoes. And that your husband works at a restaurant and doesn’t email me every day asking me to eat there. But I’m a writer. And we’re special. You understand.

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Did you know I have a book coming out? Of course you do. I asked you to ask your second cousin who knows Sarah Jessica Parker to please tweet about it. I reminded you of the time I cleaned up your vomit in college and explained that repaying your debt means calling your mother in law and convincing her to force an advance copy of my book on her bridge partner, who happens to work at a magazine that might review it. Also, while I’m so appreciative of all the reviews you posted on Amazon under fake names, it’s critical to my success and future happiness that you take a minute to copy and paste those bad boys on Goodreads, too. Thanks a bunch.

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Did you know I have a book coming out? It’s all I can talk about. Not since the birth of my children has something this momentous happened to me. Whoops, I meant to you. Because you really care. You love hearing me talk about the publishing business. You would talk about your industry, but it’s not as interesting as mine. I’m a “creative” so I can’t be bothered to remember to ask you about your life. While you are plugging away at your ho-hum career and doing laundry, I am “brainstorming.” I am “in the zone.” I am “outlining.” These are very important tasks, and I do sincerely apologize if it has made me a less than stellar friend lately. I promise after my book comes out and the massive excitement surrounding my accomplishment dies down, I’ll be more attentive. Assuming I don’t get a movie deal. Then we’re just done.

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Elyssa Friedland’s second novel, The Intermission, is available at your nearest bookseller.