I had a small piece published by The New York Times Room For Debate column about yoga and narcissism. I was really excited about it at first, but then I started to worry that this is going to be the pinnacle of my writing career. So, I decided it’s time to get serious about writing a book. First step, of course, is a name. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. And I can’t seem to narrow it down. Can you guys help me?
1
Thank You For Confirming Our Delusions
(Thanks to erstwhile graphic designer Matthew Teague Miller)
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2
The Truth About My Lunch
(Inspired by a particularly bad customer service experience at hippie hangout Cafe del Sol in Mill Valley)
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3
That’s What the Incense is For
(Inspired by Six Feet Under and some dead peonies I just couldn't throw away)
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4
Does Not Play Well With Others
(Inspired by my personality)
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5
Languish & Flounder
(An unfortunately apt summary of my life)
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6
I Like The Dirty Stuff
(A memoir about pottery)
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7
See How You Are?
(My all time favorite memoir title was already taken — Why I’m Like This — so this is my runner-up choice in the category of blaming other people for my problems)
. . . . .
8
The Attention Seekers
(A dissy memoir about my time in the yoga world)
. . . . .
9
Histrionical
(This one is self-explanatory I think, and my current favorite)
. . . . .
In the meantime, I decided to start a page on my blog to Virgoneurotically keep track of the books I read this year. Check it.
