Guest Post by Author Karen White

THE INVISIBLE WOMAN

Not too long ago, I was driving in my convertible with the top down (and my little dog in his car seat in the back seat) and a large hawk appeared from out of nowhere, approaching at a ‘v’ trajectory until wham!—he hit the side passenger door. I was stunned (as was my dog—although I believe he was a little relieved, too, that the hawk hadn’t made it inside the car). Despite the damage to my car and the attempt on my dog’s life, the most upsetting thing about the whole incident was that I must have appeared invisible. To a hawk. Isn’t there an expression “eyes like a hawk”??
I usually wouldn’t be so paranoid except for the fact that it keeps happening! I recently made a drastic change to my hair color. My hairdresser loved it, I loved it and when I got home…nothing. My husband didn’t say anything. My children didn’t say anything. My dog remained silent, too, the traitor.
And then it was everywhere—at four-way stops people would proceed through the intersection as if I wasn’t there. Was it my imagination, or were people not responding to my emails as quickly as they used to? And why did my husband wait until bedtime to let me know that I had a smear of toothpaste on my forehead—something I’d apparently had on my face all day, including the time spent sitting across from him at the dinner table?
So where am I going with this and how does it relate to my writing (besides giving me tons of material to work with for future novels)? Basically, it’s justification for my answer to the question, “Do you ever bring your family with you on book tour or other book events?” In a word, “no.”
In a few weeks, I will be speaking in front of about 650 readers in another city as part of my book tour for my November release, FALLING HOME. I’m also booked to speak with lots of book clubs, do magazine, television and radio interviews, and appear at quite a few bookstores where I’ll meet and chat with readers who actually believe that I’m interesting enough to make them want to leave the comfort of their houses to come meet me! In other words, I will be basking in being visible.
I guess I’m admitting to living a double life. In one, I’m a mild-mannered housewife who carpools, drags recalcitrant children to hair and dental appointments, and does so much laundry I’m thinking of moving my desk into the laundry room. In that life, the people I live with (husband, two children, dog) are vaguely aware that I have some kind of hobby that has something to do with books. Their main concern is that they have clean underwear when they need it.
In my second life, I’m a sort-of celebrity who sometimes gets recognized in malls and cruise ships (yes, that’s happened twice), and whose books have appeared on the New York Times bestseller list. I actually get paid to speak, and have even been known to have a captive audience of several hundred laugh at my jokes! Booksellers are happy to meet me and invite me to their stores to come speak and sign my books and I get to stay in some really cool hotels with spas. I’m never even expected to be within 300 feet of a laundry room!
So, really, why would I want to mix the two? I actually enjoy being visible. Meeting booksellers and readers is one of the best parts of my job, as is getting to dress up like a girl and wear heels and makeup. I could do that all day—if only I didn’t have to actually spend time writing. 
To be honest, though, it’s also always good to come home; to sleep in familiar sheets, to pull on my favorite sweats, and curl up in my writing chair with my dog and favorite coffee mug. Occasionally, my children and husband actually notice me and say something nice (usually as a precursor for a request for money or clean socks, but still) and they’ll even include me on fun family vacations!
I have to admit that my two lives coexist happily in my head, and I can’t imagine my life without both. One allows me to follow my dream of writing books, and the other allows me to share them with readers. I love them both, and I hope I’m lucky enough to live this double life for a long time. Or at least until my family finds a way to get dirty laundry to me when I’m on book tour.