I am so happy about today's stop on the tour because I get to tell you all about my friend Meg. (Yes, Meg and Megan—we're planning a sitcom; it's all very hush-hush.) Meg has written all about this from her end on her post today, but here's the story from my perspective. One day 2 or 3 years ago, out of nowhere, I get an email from a woman in Ireland who happened across a copy of Quilter's Home on a day when she really needed a good laugh. She had been a reader of my blog, but had never been able to read my column, and that column—A Quilter's Survival Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse—made a bad day better, so much so that she wrote to me to tell me about it.
Mail like that is basically what I live for. And I was so happy about it I forwarded it to my QH editors, Jake and Melissa, so they could feel the love too. I mean they published it, after all. And so they responded that hey, we just got a really nasty letter about that same column and have been trying to figure out what to do with it. Do you think Meg would let us publish her letter so we can have it alongside the nasty one in the Letters to the Editor section of the next issue? I said yes, and Meg said yes, and so here is what was printed:
I had a Bad Day today. A truly horrifying day in work that left me worried that I'd get fired for others stupidity, wrists that exploded into painkiller-untouchable shoots of agony, and the weather decided to make up it's mind at the exact moment I was far enough from work to not be able to duck back in to avoid the shower and drench me. It was a world of suck.
I called my other half, told him I'd meet him in our regular meetup- a bookshop/newsstand of interesting stuff. He was late, despite me already whining at him that the day sucked.
And I stood there fuming and getting pissed off looking at the magazines because I KNEW already that my favorite embroidery mag would not be there because it is no longer distributed to Ireland just to piss me off.
And then I saw it. A Quilters Home with one of those gold stickers they usually stick on anything that's an American edition over here. And I had to look twice, because I've looked for this magazine repeatedly and given it up accepting it was just one more of the things I couldn't get over here.
But it was here! And yes, you had written in it! And I finally got to read you in something that wasn't computer-screen based. And as I stood there, sniggering and giggling about how you and I will survive the zombie apocalypse, the sun came out, the other half showed up, and all of a sudden my day was all ok. It didnt matter that life had sucked before, cause I was laughing.
I've always enjoyed your posts on all of your blogs. But I thought you deserved to know that your column saved my day.
Thank you for your humor, your honesty, and your writings. You have inspired me more than you will ever know.
And from the other person
Okay, I've been on the fence about renewing my subscription for a while now, but the newest issue has thrown me from the fence.
I'M DONE. Thanks to the "Zombie Apocalypse" article by Megan Dougherty, you made the decision for me.
What were you thinking? Do you really not understand your magazine's demographic?
I thought I was alone, but at our state guild meeting last week, it was a topic and the room seemed to mirror my sentiments.
Farewell, Quilter's Home. May you go quietly into the sunset.
Now, wasn't that a brilliant move, putting those two letters together in the print magazine?
Naturally, Meg and I have become friends. She is an amazing woman, studying international law abroad and being an ice skating judge and a gamer and just generally awesome. We are fellow introverts and have a goal of hiding under the table together at some insanely crowded event. Being an amazing woman living in Ireland (Meg is from the U.S.), she has an Irish boyfriend and I WANT HIM IN MY CALENDAR, DAMMIT. Ever since the day Meg first wrote to me I have been on a long campaign to get her boyfriend to be in the QSMASBC. Meg assures me that he is rather lean and pale, as is your general male denizen of the British Isles—like that means anything to me. I just want an Irishman who also happens to be the significant other of someone I am rather fond of, that's all. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? (And yes, the fact that he has been so reluctant may have played a small part in how passionately I want him to take his damn shirt off and hold still for five minutes.) So, for all you Eire-o-philes (that's a word, right?), I assure you I am working on it, and I may have made some headway in my campaign recently.
Now you, my loyal readers, must—MUST, I SAY— go to Meg's blog right now. To win a copy of my book, you have to leave a comment telling her the most creative expletive you've ever heard. DO ME PROUD, PEOPLE.
Now, I have a grievous wrong to right here. In copying and pasting the list of the last stops on the tour, I have been a total asshole and have inadvertently lopped off Friday's stop: Kim of Persimon Dreams. You may already know Kim from Project Quilting, and if you don't, well, you're about to. Kim, please forgive me and know that I will shout your day from the rooftops to try and make up for it.
Tomorrow's stop won't be happening for reasons beyond Laura's control, and that's totally cool. I can't get into it but, just send some good thoughts to Laura in Australia for me, won't you?