I guess I wrote a Chick-Lit novel...

Who knew?

I read my Publishers Weekly review today for Plum Blossoms in Paris. Every ABNA semifinalist received one, and here's mine:

Daisy’s high school boyfriend breaks up with her via email and she’s devastated, so, like any reasonable chick lit heroine, she decides to take a break from her university’s neuroscience program so she can flee to Paris to find herself, and pick up a new hunky boyfriend along the way. Daisy meets a charming, French stranger on a train who she later runs into at a museum. Soon enough Mathieu, who has mother issues, offers to take Daisy on an insider’s tour of Paris. He wants to "live freely" with her, he explains, which is French bachelor code for "let’s just fool around." The author’s witty banter and solid prose are a match for Sophie Kinsella or Cecilia Ahearn, and Daisy is more familiar and accessible than their protagonists. She’s certainly smarter too. But then again, isn’t everyone equally dumb when it comes to love?

I have never read a chick-lit novel. But I guess I'm good at writing them.

I recognize that this is mostly a favorable review, and yet it feels so different from the book in my heart. My Mathieu isn't "hunky." And he doesn't want to fool around.

Anyway, I'm bewildered, but...

happy?

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HERE is something to be really happy about!

Jaye Wells, a fantastic writer and friend, just announced a 3-book deal with Orbit US for her urban fantasy series. Yay, Jaye! So get on over to her blog and congratulate her. She deserves it.

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ETA: I suck at taking vacations.