“No matter how good you are, if you’re not promoted right you won’t be remembered.” –Andy Warhol

Let’s hope that doesn’t happen to Alison Pace who has written a book with the fabulous title, If Andy Warhol had a Girlfriend.

Apparently, what is inside is just a great. I’m spotlighting Alison today as part of the Girlfriend’s Cyber Circuit, and she is on a virtual booktour. Today’s stop: my blog.

Alison holds a degree in Art History from American University in Washington, D.C. and received a graduate certificate in American Art from Sotheby’s Institute in New York. She has worked at Sotheby’s and has also been an independent fine art researcher. She lives in New York City. I’d say Alison knows a bit about Andy Warhol. Maybe her protagonist does, too. Here’s a little bit about the book.

She knows all about art, but does she know what she likes?
Jane Laine used to know a lot about art. But that was before she started managing a prominent gallery, and long before she met “it” artist Ian Rhys-Fitzsimmons. Jane can’t seem to put a finger on what exactly is so “it” about his work. In fact, as far as she can tell, he’s a big fraud and his fifteen minutes of fame should be over by now. Which could be kind of a problem-since Jane is the one who has to accompany him on a five-month international art fair tour.

To get through it all, Jane figures she’ll be a good sport and keep her critiques to herself. Until, traveling with this alleged genius from London to Rome and beyond, she starts to understand the connection between art and love-and the fact that in both, perspective is everything.

Alison is getting some great quotes and reviews, and I can hardly wait to read her book. Plus, her launch party was shown in In Style Magazine, so I’m kinda green with envy. I did not have a launch party. Of course, since I live in Utah, the locals would have loved to have launched me somewhere else before I wrote my book.

Anyway, like I’m going to, give Alison’s book a read. It promises to be worth it.

Check it out:

Tuesday, February 15, 2005, 12:50 p.m. MST:

WIVES AND SISTERS: #8,601
Book of Mormon: #22,555

I must send a thank you note, to Martin Naparstack, at The Salt Lake Tribune, and thank him for dissing my book in a manner that left little doubt as to his motivation.

Well, since, in her blog, my brilliant and multi-talented friend and author Joshilyn Jackson, who I have FINALLY figured out is called Joss, kindly mentioned the fact that I track MY book’s ranking vs. The Book of Mormon ranking, I had better DO it.

So, tonight, 11:14 p.m., MST, the rankings were:

W&S: #38,163

BoM: #31,898
It’s neck and neck. It’s a tight race. It’s …. it’s a draw.

Now I need to sleep. Sorry to disappoint. Mormons: Send your complaints to Amazon, because I do NOT control their Web site.

Tonight, on the doorstep, was a Valentine’s Day box of candy, addressed to Cambre. It was signed “Love, Sister Doedick and Sister Imalottawoman” (okay, I made those names up, to protect the innocent, as always).

Those of you who peruse this blog regularly will remember I kind of told the primary president off a few weeks okay. See, she showed up asking for Cambre. No introduction. No, “Hi, I’m Molly Mormon, the primary president, and can I talk to your daughter.” Instead, she just smiled at me and said, “Can I talk to Cambre?” Anyway, you’ve heard that story. After I gave her my whole speech, about how we weren’t Mormon, and had had our name removed, yada yada, she pretty much tried to run, and run fast. But at that point, she said, “I WILL TELL THE BISHOP YOU WANT NO CONTACT.” She wasn’t exactly screaming, but she was backing up really fast, and her car left a tire mark as it peeled out….

Well, that “no contact” shit means just that. Shit. Jackshit, really. They don’t CARE. THIS primary president may not be back, but by God, they will leave little offerings just about any time they feel like it. Like Valentine’s Day.

So, back to the box. Anyway, Cambre gets the box of chocolates, and being ten and quite fond of candy, says, “Well, Mom, at least I get some candy out of this whole Mormon thing. Which one should I eat?”

Of course, being the Satan-possessed mother that I am, I decided to have some fun. “Well, Cambre, if you eat THAT one, you’ll have to wear that funny Mormon underwear.” That met with a “yuck,” eyeroll, and a “Mom, that’s just gross.”

Then, of course, it was a game. “What about THIS one, Mom?”

“Well, if you eat THAT one, you have to sit through three hours of meetings on Sunday, wear a dress all day, fast once a month, and forgo those Sunday water-skiing trips.” Eyes got wide on that one.

“You have GOT to be kidding me?” I have to remind this child, only once of course, of Grandma and Grandpa. That’s all it takes.

“Well, what about THIS one?”

“That one means you have to never wear another tank top, belly shirt, or two-piece swimming suit. EVER. EVER.”

Heathen child is appalled. Satan’s Spawn MUST wear two-piece. MUST.

So, we have one chocolate left. Now, whatever does THAT one do?

“Oh, nothing much. Just requires ten percent of everything you earn, for the rest of your life. Given to the Church.”

Child does quick math. Mother deduces THIS child, who likes earthly possessions a WHOLE lot, will never be a Mormon.

So, whattaya think? Did those chocolates end up in the garbage? Nah, she ate them. She’s on to me. Oh, and she’s on to the Mormons, too….

My book, Wives and Sisters, received a rather excoriating review from The Salt Lake Tribune, which ran in this Sunday’s edition. I suppose this would have been disheartening, had I been expecting a good review. Given the current atmosphere at the newspaper, which has changed radically since I left, I wasn’t.

I’m not going to go into all the whys and wherefores of the Trib sale and purchase by media magnate Dean Singleton, but suffice it to say he would say or do just about anything the LDS Church wanted. Since Historian Will Bagley wasn’t reporting faith-promoting stories about Mormon Inc.’s past, and rather just telling the cold hard truth, whammo: He was fired. Tom Barberi, Utah’s voice of reason (a Catholic telling the truth about life in Utah): whammo. Fired.

The Deseret News had been complaining for a long time that the rival Tribune was being mean. Mean, mean, mean, just like a big bully. Oh, the owners weren’t Mormon either, so it made them hard to control. When The Trib went up for sale, they engaged in some rather shifty and amusing manipulations so they could get exactly what they wanted. Editorial control over the Trib.

Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t THINK that Dean Singleton told Martin Naparstack to pan my book. I’m not that stupid. But a positive review on a novel that is considered an “anti” rant just wouldn’t go with The Trib’s new image, now would it?

Naparstack’s biggest complaint seemed to be that my characters speak like real people and that I don’t hint around at bad things happening. Somewhere along the line, did he miss that this was a THRILLER?

We also get characters who talk in a way that isn’t hard to understand. The narrator, Allison Jensen, at one point tells a would-be lover, Frank, “I don’t do nice guys.” And when she argues with her father about religion, she says, “You can take your church, and your temple, and all your blessings and endowments and shove them up your ass. I never want to see you again.” Subtlety is not part of Collins’ dialogue.

Can someone please tell me what is the COMPLAINT here? So my characters speak in a manner that you can understand. This is a minus in fiction? Go figure. I’d better tell my agent. He’d rather they speak in cliches and innuendoes and dance around the real truths, so that you have to spend twenty minutes interpreting dialogue that is supposed to be written in English?

There isn’t a page in the novel that wouldn’t benefit from a generous dose of subtlety.

Let me subtly say that this is a gross overstatement. Perhaps the reviewer should take his own advice.

The rest of the review pretty much goes on like that. I don’t make it a habit of refuting reviews. Of course, I haven’t HAD to since this is the sole negative review I have received on this book.

Of course, it could have been worse. He could have called me a jackass, which is what happened to writer A. J. Jacobs, who is an editor at Esquire and the author of The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World. The reviewer of his book actually called him a jackass!

I was quite amused with the rebuttal essay written by Jacobs.

In the end, the only useful lesson was a simple one: As a writer, I have to accept the lack of control. Publishing a book is like having a child. You can do everything right — feed him, clothe him, show him Baby Kierkegaard videos — but a bully at kindergarten can still make him eat clumps of dirt. You have to come to terms with that. And you have to appreciate that your child is able to run around the playground at all, and is even having fun on the jungle gym when not being pummeled. Oh, and you can make sure the Amazon ranking for the bully’s new book is much, much lower than yours. Which it is.