Whose Life Is It Anyway?

When you’re writing something that’s MAJOR (whether it’s a book or a screenplay), there’s always that weird moment when you first start to share it with the world.
I remember with my first produced feature film script, when during a meeting a producer told me how much she loved Frankie (one of my favorite characters), I had this weird impulse to say, “Really, you know Frankie, too?” as though we had stumbled upon a mutual acquaintance rather than someone I had entirely made up.
With my novel now being released more broadly into the world –– meaning more than just my closest literary friends reading copies as a favor –– that’s beginning to happen again.
All of the first reviewers on iTunes are not only people I know, but friends I requested to write something.  I recognize their emails or screennames or what-have-you.
But now, I’m finding that the more recent reviews are less recognizable to me.
I’m not sure who’s reading the book at all.
And my favorite –– and the most mysterious one by far –– is from D35472987 (yes, that is the author’s screenname):

“Finally, a true to life depiction of my youth.  Fun, sexy, and, in the end, enlightened.”

Oh D354 (etc.) –– I am truly and majorly APPRECIATIVE of your awesome review.
Thank you!
And of course, I am slightly curious who you are (and you have every right to say anonymous, of course), but mostly I am DYING to hear more about your youth … particularly if it’s anything like mine –– um, I mean, the hero of my novel’s.
But maybe some things are best kept a little secret, D354.
Trust me;  I understand.

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