Nina Gaby

Essays, art, and healthcare

From this morning’s Dumped author FB page:

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New publicity:

Good morning! In addition to this morning’s snippet from Melody Breyer-Grell, I want to –gulp- announce that I finally, after great pressure both internal and external, have acquired a twitter account. @Nina_H_Gaby I want to post a line from each of your essays daily whe I figure out how the hell to do that. And I want to announce a few of the upcoming events for the book. I am being interviewed for the internet radio show “Matters of the Mind” with Peter Sacco on the 28th, will let you know when it airs. Setting up reading and events. If you are nearby or interested in joining, please let me know. March 28 reading and launch at Barnes and Noble, Rochester, NY- one of the busiest B and N’s (I have two readers coming with me, both with voice training so people don’t have to listen to me croaking for two hours). That will be followed by a cocktail party, and a private house party the next day. In April, date TBA, the famed Charis Books in Atlanta will be hosting an event: reading and Q and A with me, Susan Cushman, Jessica Handler, thanks to the efforts of Jessica Handler. Bluestockings Bookstore in NYC, through the persistence of Melody Breyer-Grell appears willing to host a reading mid-May and I hope to lock that down ASAP as many of you are interested in joining that. I am working on some publicity for that with JKS. It was great talking with Melody and Jessica yesterday. (I can’t resist- won’t my local Indie be sorry they didn’t snatch up an event when they could?) Have written several guest articles and blogs, will post when they are published. And much more in the works. As Jessica and I bemoaned, the publicity is a full time job.

From the brilliant “Just Say No” by Melody Breyer-Grell:
“ I have to tell you something and you are not allowed to tell a soul.”
I was intrigued and wary as the same time. When Helen made a proclamation
like that it could mean someone’s head was on the chopping block.
We were the bullies of the dog park. Two middle-aged women, sitting
around as if bonded by blood, whispering and judging all, often cackling
and rolling our eyes as the others wondered what we were cooking up.
Who do we have to hate now?

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