When my sister Andrea got married, she asked to wear my mother’s wedding dress.
The day she tried it on for the first time I was sitting with Mother in the living room as Andrea descended the stairs. The gown was a perfect fit on her petite frame. Mother’s eyes welled with tears. I put my arm around her.
“You’re not losing a daughter,” I reminded her in time-honored fashion. “You’re gaining a son.”
“Oh, forget about that!” she said with a sob. “I used to fit into that dress!”
“If a book about failures doesn’t sell, is it a success?”