Even if you’re a die-hard fan of Betsy-Tacy, like I am, you’ve probably never heard the story about Betsy-Tacy, The Author, and The Chicken. It goes like this.

One day, there was an Author who loved Betsy-Tacy. She got online to buy some of the books because her grandmother wanted to read them, only to find out they were out of print! So…using her keen sense of problem solving, she immediately emailed Meg Cabot and told her the devastating news! Meg emailed her back to say that while she is indeed the most powerful writer in all of YA (okay, she didn’t really say that, but it still might be true), sadly, she was afraid that even she would be thwarted getting them back into print due to that evil of all evils, THE BOTTOM LINE (unless you work for AIG, where this doesn’t matter). Meg did however have fantastic news! The Betsy-Tacy convention is this summer and she is going to be the keynote speaker.

Now I know, if you read this blog, you already know all this, but we’re finally getting to the part about The Chicken. You see, The Author was so excited because her wonderful agent had sold her book, and if the God of Advances did some magic, she could actually afford to go to the Betsy-Tacy convention. However, what she was not counting on was The Chicken.

It is now time for The Author to sign up for the convention. She has filled out all the forms, figured out which day she wants to go to Murmuring Lake (Monday), emailed a dear friend in Minneapolis and arranged for a place to stay before and after the convention…even reserved a room at a lovely B&B…but now that it’s time to actually send in the registration…The Author has turned into A Chicken.

Sure she wants to go, but she doesn’t know anyone there! What if no one talks to her? What if it’s the first-day-of-school-new-girl thing all over again (not that she actually ever was the new girl at school, except college, and that turned out okay). What if she dresses up for the costume ball and no one else does? What if she gets lost walking from the B&B (it’s 10 minutes, one turn)?

What if Meg Cabot says, “Oh, you’re the crazy girl that always emails me and thinks I can single handedly save the publishing world. Thank God I brought a restraining order.”

Bwak, bwak, bwak, bwak…what a CHICKEN this author is!

If you’re going, or you know anyone who’s going, especially anyone who’s going alone and will sit with me for at least one meal, please email me! The truth is that while I’ve always fancied myself as Betsy, apparently I’m Tacy and I need a Betsy to drag me along!