I realize that this is the sort of blog post that will make everyone realize exactly how obsessive one (and by “one” I am slyly referring to “me”) can be about all things authorial.
So, I do not have a book on Amazon, in case you were wondering. No. I do not even have an author page on Amazon.
What I have is a slice of an inkling of an existence on Amazon. Try this. Go to amazon.com. Go ahead–open it up in another window. I’ll still be here. I’m waiting.
Okay. Now in that big search box, start typing “Courtney Milan.” Start typing it–don’t finish! Wait for Amazon to give you search suggestions. It will start out thinking you are searching for calendars or cell phones. Then, as you type in more letters, it’ll suggest coldplay and coupon codes. By the time you hit the “R”, Amazon will have figured out that maybe you mean courtney love. Yes, yes–you love Courtney–but not that Courtney, or at least not that Courtney at this moment.
It isn’t until you get into the last name that I appear. courtney milan, right below courtney martin. I know, I know. It is the least exciting thing in the whole wide world. You can’t even believe I made you go to Amazon to see it. In fact, you are probably thinking I might be crazy.
Because what I am announcing is something like this: Squee! I am now a figment of Amazon’s imagination!
Oh, we takes our joys as we can find them, we soon-to-be-published-authors.
So, does Amazon know that you exist? Are you a figment of Amazon’s imagination? And if so, how many letters does it take Amazon to imagine you?