A Very Well Known Writer was scheduled to come on my show. Her publicist contacted me, we went back and forth regarding dates, and settled on one. This was a couple months ago. The other day the publicist contacts me and says this Very Well Known Writer’s tour has changed and she can’t make it and can I reschedule?

I really did want to talk to this author; I’ve been a fan for years. But I told the publicist that unless she could promise that it wouldn’t happen again, I wouldn’t reschedule. I said I had sent releases out to the papers and that it makes me look incredibly flakey when someone cancels. Flaked on once because something better comes along, are you going to make a date again? Not without a ton of trepidation.

The publicist couldn’t promise. So she’s not coming on. But the publicist was profusely sorry, she said. Uh-huh.

This all is coming out because a friend and former student emailed me. Did you see Very Famous Writer on the ____ _____ Show the other night? he said.

No! I said. What were you going to tell me–that she was witty and charming? I said. If you were, it’s an act. She’s a flake.

I was going to ask you if you saw her shoes, he said.

I didn’t ask him about her shoes. Even though I am curious what it was about her shoes that interested him so. He doesn’t seem like one to notice a woman’s shoes.