I find it funny (aka weird) what you, the public, readers and my social media circle pick up on. Over the last year or so, there’s been a myth developing on the convention circuit about my #1 wife, Julie—namely, that she doesn’t exist. The Loch Nessian belief in all things Julie has cropped up because sightings of her are rare. As much as Julie is involved in my storytelling endeavors, she doesn’t attend my book signings or come to conventions very often—and when she does attend conferences with me she tends to go off and do her own thing. Some people have met her but it seems no two people can corroborate her identity, which adds to the superstition that Julie is nothing more than a number of various women I hire to play “Julie.”
I can categorically state that Julie is real. It’s just coincidence that she is one of those models that appears in picture frames.
I want to assure people that Julie is no sleight of hand. There are a couple of reasons for scant Julie sightings. First, Julie is shy and she gets spooked by the reading and writing community, usually because they know a lot more about her than she does about them. Second, I once had a run in with a stalker-type person. It was an unnerving experience that I have no desire in repeating. As a result of that I’m protective of my home life. I don’t share images of us, don’t have Julie post on my Facebook feed and only limit what I tell you about us. I realize that none of this is helping dispel the myth.
Because of these two factors, I do have quite large Julieless moments in my life and some people believe they could quite easily fill her shoes. So do you think you have what it takes to be a stand-in Julie? Answer yes to the following questions (or statements) and you will be awarded temporary Julie status.
- Must change your name to Julie or at least be willing to answer to the name Julie.
- Must be willing to laugh at all my jokes.
- Must be willing to dress me in the mornings.
- Must not find chip butties objectionable. I don’t but a Julie has to
- Must show distain for my love of puppet shows.
- Must be amenable to sharing the bed at least but not limited to three cats and dogs…exact mix to be determined.
- Must be willing to be grossed out by something I say at one a day and open to saying “Ew!”
- Once you’ve lost your usefulness, must be able to fit into a suitcase (in one piece or in chunks).
If you agree to these terms (willingly or otherwise), one day you could become a Julie.