If an offer gets made.

Of course, there’s the new media stuff. The hire-an-independent-publicist stuff. (For which we plan to sell my husband’s car. Anyone want an almost-new hybrid?) Web stuff. Blog tours, social media, Skype.

I mean, I don’t get Twitter, but really, does anybody? Just kidding. I know some do. They’re six, but still.

I do plan to go a little light on Skype, though.

Not because I have anything against Skype. But because for me publishing a book–not writing it, but this whole zany quest to have it published–is about readers, and books.

Handing the latter to the former, in a real-time, live, physical way. Shaking hands while I’m at it. Exchanging a smile and a few words.

I plan to meet readers in two ways.

The first has to do with booksellers, whom followers of this blog know I love almost as much as I do readers.

The Declaration of Independents tour will take me to as many independent bookstores across the country as I can reach. And I can reach a lot. Followers of the blog also know all about my penchant for cross-country travel.

If there aren’t readers in those bookstores at first, that’s fine. Saying hello to the bookseller is just as important. Once I’ve moved on from Boise to Des Moines, maybe that person, for whom books are the truest labor of love, will remember I came by. Maybe when a fan of literary suspense enters the store, the bookseller will say, “Have I got a novel for you…” and walk over to the shelf…and pick up…my book.

Oh my. Pause to wipe tears.

Enough of those stops and there may be a reader or two in the store by the time I reach Nebraska. Maybe more than two by California. Don’t forget, I get to drive back again. Lots more bookstores along the way.

The second thing is my Book Club Promise.

That’s where I offer to come speak to as many book clubs as I can get to–I’m driving by all those bookstores anyway–about writing and publishing and the novel itself.

I’m part of a book club. The meetings where an author comes are pretty cool. A little wine, a little talk, some secrets told.

This post is so earnest, it’s killing me. I want to be funny like my favorite funny blogger. But I just can’t. Those tears were for real.

The urge to get my book out there is as raw and inarguable as the need to push. You know, a baby.

And when I do, it’s readers and lovers of books whom I want to meet.

We can laugh when I get there.