My fellow Inkling Brandi Barnett insists she isn't "craftsy." I beg to differ. As proof, I offer Exhibit A above. These are just two of the clever coasters she made to celebrate my book. I chose the ones which feature cars because if you've read my book--or WHEN you read my book--you'll know cars play a significant role in the plot.
When I taught sophomore English, I dubbed it "the year of the car." That didn't mean all students got their own car that year, but most of them did get their drivers license. And I don't need to explain to you that in the US acquiring that official document is a rite of passage. To mark the occasion and to get to know my students better, I'd sometimes assign an essay in which they were to explain that if they were a car, what kind they would be. With the exception of one student (a very left-brained male who complained, "That's just dumb. People aren't cars.), they all seemed to get into the spirit of the assignment. And most understood it for what it was--a metaphor for their personality, not a request for them to turn into a Ford.
Now I'm asking my readers to do the same. No, you don't have to write an essay, and I'm surely not going to grade it! Been there, done that. But briefly tell me what kind of car best suits your personality. Remember, I'm not asking you what kind of car you drive, unless, of course, you just happen to drive a Maserati and that's the way you see yourself. But many of us don't drive our "inner car." For example, after years of hard work and saving, Bill and I recently rewarded ourselves with a late-model car with all the bells and whistles. But no way do I see myself as that sleek and luxurious vehicle. I see myself more as the sturdy, practical, dependable Camry I used to drive.
So join in the fun. Tell me, are you a Mini Cooper or a mini-van?