My book is out with test readers right now. I’m a little nervous. When I think about the plot, it’s with a feeling of satisfaction. It’s so fun, with such vivid characters: the dumpster-diving bartender heroine, the banjo pickin’, yarn bombing midwife, the dumpster digging professor with good shoes, the landscaper/luchadora/instigator, the psychic feminist Jewish grandmother, the female pastor and her motherly wife, a seriously messed up couple of adversaries, the randy ex, and a super sexy Costa Rican hero. But hey, their story is in the book.

In this time of waiting, the snippets of text that pay tribute to real people are what come to mind.

These children, not surprisingly, show up in the book. In real life, they are my son (in the wig) and daughter, but they reprise their dino-riding roles in the novel. I paid tribute to a few people in more subtle ways, but only the children and my friend Linda made it in wholesale, in tiny walk-on appearances. I didn’t even disguise them very much, though I left their names out.

The most obvious real people but not real people in the book are the Luchadoras. They are a Durham phenomenon of family-friendly Mexican wrestling. Even though some of the fighting is exaggerated in the ring, these ladies really do fight for justice, contributing all of their profits to help advance the causes  of undocumented teens and farmworkers.

Fierce Warriors

I had a blast at Luchadoras 4 on Saturday, laughing and smiling so hard that my face hurt. Even though I made up my plot without reference to any of these fighters, the book as a whole owes a great deal to them. How else should a lady try to win back her true love, if not through honorable lucha libre?