Of laundromats and novels

I'm a newbie ... not to the writing world, since I've made my living writing for newspapers for somethun, somethun years ... but to the elite circle of published authors.

I'm thrilled that RP will be publishing my vampire romantic suspense series, starting with "Out of the Shadows" next March. I'm also a little anxious about entering this whole new world. Which leads me to a little story.

My washer's gone to the great appliance store in the sky so I've become the queen of laundromats. My experience must show because a strange man came up to me, uncertainty written across his face, and said, "What do you do if the washer won't open up when it's done?"

Oviously, a laundromat virgin. I sent him to the convenience store next door that operates the laundromat. He thanked me ... and then asked for advice on the dryers.

Use the big ones, I advised. They're hotter and cost less.

We discussed the specifics of his laundry and decided it could all go into one dryer. I also passed along the tip to check his clothes before the dryer stopped in case he needed to add money. If you add while the dryer's tumbling, it's a quarter; wait until it stops and it takes fifty cents to start it back up.

With this bond between us, he felt the need to chat. Which is okay. Total strangers target me for conversations, and some of them have been real doozies.

The laundromat guy was fine. It seems like he put his house up for sale, expecting it to take several months to sell. It took three weeks, so everything that didn't fit in the camper he's using as temporary housing is in a storage unit.

He felt the need to explain that he was good at doing laundry, just that he'd never used a laundromat before. My function, I think, was to serve as his security blanket during this first time.

I know how the guy feels. I've written all my life. I've got a wall full of awards for writing on the wall behind my desk. Yet as I begin the grand adventure of seeing the world in my head become a published reality, I feel a whole lot like my laundromat buddy.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing ... but it's nice to know there's a safety net there, too.