Zo they say.

Dear Launch Week of My New Novel The Younger Man,

Oh MAN (younger, I suspect) I can’t wait to get you in stores and on shelves and in hands and in front of eyes. Can you believe you’re out next Wednesday?

Well you are, dingus, so pay attention.

Now, to celebrate this, I want to do something loving and literary for my readers. I want to write them their own personal chick-lit piece.

On Twitter.

Twit Chick Lit!

What fun.

How it will work is this:

On Monday morning, I will tweet something really cool and admirable and totally not self-promoting about The Younger Man. Like: The only book anyone should read this year is The Younger Man by Zoe Foster.

Excitable followers will then RT this self-deprecating and subtle tweet, and when I see them do that, I will select some and write them their own, unique chick lit.

For example:

@katie99 met Tom in the park. His fiancee had left him; her marriage had fallen apart. They fell in love doing laundry and bought a cat.

@lizgloss fell for a gent with no scruples. He was exciting and they got tats. They didn’t last but the sex was outstanding.

@lilshopper cheated with a man named Troy. They travelled they world. She felt guilty and returned to her ex. He forgave her; they pashed.

IMAGINE! Their name carefully injected into a thrilling romantic narrative that is brimming with lust and drama and then suspesefully concluded, and all in under 140 characters.

As if that wasn’t enough to lift your luggage, each day I will randomly select one of the gorgeous RT-ers selected for a Twit Chick-Lit and send them a signed copy of what else but… Twilight!

No, no, sorry - it’s The Younger Man. The book they’ll win is definitely The Younger Man.

I think you’ll agree this is the best fun a girl can have on Twitter where new chick lit novels are concerned, and I sincerely hope many fun squids will play along.

From your friend,

Zoe.

Dear The Younger Man Book By Zoe Foster,

Look at you, you handsome thing! What a delicious cover. 

DID YOU EVEN KNOW THAT YOU ARE ALMOST ON SALE?!

I feel like I just wrote you, you mischievous little scamp, and now it’s only six weeks until you are in the shops (Feb 22) and on the innernette for people to buy and read and love and tell all of their friends, (and even some of their enemies) to quickly purchase too, because you are such a great novel about an irresistible young hunk and the woman who falls for him even though she is over a decade older and thinks that probably that isn’t The Best Idea, but who is to say what is The Best Idea? 

What a thrilling start to 2012 it will be for me to have The Younger Man to annoy people about.

Now, stop flerching round on Tumblr and go get printed already. Go. GO!

From your friend,

Zoe

Dear Kierkegaard,

Terrific question!

This is where any rouse of me being an “artist” crumbles; I do not suffer existential crises, no.

Well, I haven’t thus far. Perhaps when I am a grown up, I will.

I put this (and my not being tortured) down to:

1. My choice of content (“advice based” or “light-hearted narratives” or “ridiculous”)

2. My golden rule of writing: Have fun, enjoy yourself.

3. The fact there are so many exceptional writers and artists already doing it so beautifully.

I realise this admission might hurl me into a pool already flush with the shallow, superficial and trivial, but I’ve made peace with that. And it doesn’t mean my work is any less valuable: as a chick lit writer, and a beauty writer, and a relationships writer, there is ample proof to suggest what I do is akin to the delicious foam atop a cappuccino, and that those writing literary books, say, are more deserving of the title “writer” and certainly of the word “artist.”

I suppose I feel protective of my work when this line of reasoning arises, because if it feels wonderful to create, and it inspires delight in those reading it, then I  am genuinely content, no matter what the perception of my contribution is.

Again, terrific question.

From your friend,

Zoe