Getting out of New York

Hola Chicas. I can't get out of New York fast enough! No wide sky to inspire me... but that's not the real reason I can't leave fast enough.

My publisher called and wanted to know why I haven't been able to break 3000 on Amazon after practically a week on the list and why sales were lagging. I told them well, it's not MY fault it can't get beyond 3000, they're the ones that are supposed to generate the publicity, I just write the shit and press the flesh.

And didn't they know Barnes & Noble screwed up? There are three thousand less talented writers ahead of me, the Reina Dirty! I told them it was a rightwing conspiracy to keep a strong woman down and no doubt the fault of those motherfucking Miami Cuban nazis. But they wouldn't listen, and said the problem was my mouth. As in my B-L-O-G.

Here they are supposedly spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on promoting my new novel, Make Him Feel Good, and they said my blog tantrums were driving down sales. I told them to fuck off and that my blog was my business. After all, the adoring readers of my blog are the ones that went right out and bought the book. Right girls?

They told me to cut the crap and said I hadn't attracted even one newspaper story, well, aside from that stupid throwaway rag where I told the dimwit reporter I wasn't political and they believed me.

But this isn't my fault, it's theirs! I, the Reina Dirty, am stuck with their goddam publicist while all I do is work hard and smile for my darling fans. Is it my fault they can't get it right?

Nobody gets anything right here! In Chelsea they couldn't get my goddam Starbucks order right either! They got the cinnamon sprinkles wrong and I told them to pour it out and make me another, on the double and this time listen to me when I say nutmeg! Motherfuckers. I warned them to throw in an extra praline macadamia chocolate velvet scone gratis or they'd have a lawsuit on their hands.

Anyway, about the publishers, I tried to calm them down cuz they were so annoyed at me and offered to take them out to Gray's Papaya, my home away from home in New York City, but they just wouldn't listen, because they are a bunch of racist, white males, good ole boys. Well, I'll show them, mark my words. I'm off to Chicago now to really get this book tour cranking.

In the meantime go out and buy the book, it makes a great gift.

Hugs,

not Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez