December 27 and Still No Vince

Well, here it is, two days after Christmas and still no card from Vince Flynn. And I think I know why.

Vince Flynn, as all haunters of Barnes and Nobel, Costco, Walmart and airport book kiosks know, is an author of VBD (Very Big Deal) standing. His thrillers- and I must say, they are indeed thrilling- are megasellers. He has fans all over the globe. And he lives here in the Twin Cities.

Which is how, I am certain, he found out about Sugar Plum Days.

Every year a couple of weeks before Christmas, the Altar and Rosary Society of the Church of the Holy Family- my hangout- hosts a Christmas bazaar and bake sale. You know the deal- crafts for sale, a visit from Santa, kids sugared out of their minds. This year, the lovely ladies of the AaRS asked if they could offer copies of my book, "Breakfast with the Pope," for sale as a fundraiser.

Which was fine. Except for the fact that the never asked Vince Flynn if they could sell his books. And I mean, never.

"We'd love to display your books," the head AaRS lady said. "But please, don't tell Vince Flynn, okay? We're not selling his and we don't want to hurt his feelings."

Well, I don't know how he found out, but it's clear to me Vince got wind of it. And I'm pretty sure he's still mad.

I tried. I wrote a letter to him on my other blog, which you can find by going to www.breakfastwiththepope.com. I tried to explain that it wasn't my fault. I mean, face it, Vince! Not everyone is up to the Altar and Rosary Society's standards. That's just the way it is.

Anyway, in the letter on the blog I tried to tell him I felt bad about the whole thing and I hoped he could overlook it. But I think he's still mad. Otherwise why wouldn't he send me a Christmas card?

Now I, of course, am far too lazy to send out Christmas cards. I mean, the card shopping, the address lists, the post office- it just never ends, so I don't get involved. But since obviously Vince is a lot more energetic than me- anyone who publishes a dozen books in a dozen years has got to be energetic- he must send out Christmas cards to half the world.

But not to me.

Vince? Look, I said I was sorry. You just gotta let this one go, buddy. I'd hate for things to be awkward at the next meeting of the Twin Cities Chapter of Famous Author Types.

Who, by the way, also haven't sent me any cards this year.

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