Since having a child, I have discovered books are multi-purpose:
You can drool on them. You can tear them. You can cry on them when your mom makes you do a photo shoot in the book basket.
I cannot help but think as I edit my beloved manuscript, how abused is this book gonna be? Are my grandkids gonna sit on it? Is the front cover gonna be ripped to shreds?
And ya know, I don’t care. It’s going to happen. Some people are going to hate this book. They’re going to criticize it. They may even have a bonfire because they won’t agree with my point-of-view that girls are valuable and should take ownership of their own bodies.
But hey. I’m writing this book for my daughter. And myself. And all the girls out there who crave a positive message about themselves.
And if you wanna cry about it, shred it, burn it, drool on it — I don’t care. Just make sure you buy about 10,000 copies in order to make your statement.