But a book containing suggestions from family law attorneys about how to divorce-proof one's marriage is not one that I would have anticipated causing public embarrassment. Yet I have heard from many people, people who include my husband, that they felt "funny" reading my new book, The Divorce Lawyers' Guide to Staying Married, in public places.

Me: "Honey, don't you want to read my new book?"

Husband: "I am reading it."

Me: "You started it two weeks ago and according to your bookmark you are only on page seven."

Husband: "I can't read it at night because I would be self-conscious reading a book about marriage with my wife in the same room."

Me: [In the kind of testy voice that is not recommended by the author of The Divorce Lawyers' Guide to Staying Married] "Why can't you read it at lunch?"

Husband: "I tried to read it at lunch, but the woman in the next booth looked at the title and then gave me the 'That Poor Guy's Marriage Is in Trouble' look."

Me: "That's ironic because it's the same look I am going to give you if you don't read my book." [Again, the author of The Divorce Lawyers' Guide to Staying Married strongly discourages such dialogue between husband and wife. See Chapter Seven, Communication.]

Although my marriage-loving husband got my drift, he wasn't willing to risk having complete strangers at restaurants think he might need a little marital nip and tuck. So after our conversation he made the grand gesture of bringing my book with him, instead of the sports page, on his morning sojourns to the tiled library. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

I chalked up my husband's wariness to some anomaly of the male psyche, so I was caught off-guard when a close friend of mine named Sandy, a woman who is so evolved that she feels comfortable braiding the hair on her unshaven legs during dull PTA meetings, told me that she also experienced reading embarrassment while reading my book in public. Apparently, she had been intently reading at the local car wash while her hybrid vehicle was being towel dried, and felt "self-conscious."

Me: "Why did you feel self-conscious?"

Sandy: "Well, the lady sitting next to me in the waiting area asked me what I was reading, and I showed her the title."

Me: "And..."

Sandy: "Well, I didn't want her to think I was having marital problems. Even if I was having problems, which I'm not, I still wouldn't have wanted her to know. And I happened to be reading the chapter discussing how in-laws can negatively impact a marriage. I didn't want her to think that I was having problems with my mother-in-law. Those problems were resolved a long time ago.

Me: "I didn't know you had a problem with your mother-in-law."

Sandy: "I should have told you, but I was worried you would put me in the book."

Me: "I would never do that!" [Note to self: Remember to use Sandy's story about her negative relationship with her mother-in-law in Volume II of The Divorce Lawyers Guide To Staying Married.]

I don't remember exactly what Sandy said next, but it was something like, "So I told the complete stranger sitting next to me that my mother-in-law is beyond fabulous, and that I really appreciate all of her unsolicited suggestions (read: criticisms) on how I should be raising her grandchildren, and that I was just reading the book because my good friend wrote it."

Me: "So what did she say?"

Sandy: "She asked if she could borrow my yellow highlighting pen to write down the name of the book because she had 'a friend' who was married for thirteen years and fifty-six days whose husband was addicted to internet pornography [Chapter One] and was a compulsive gambler [Chapter Three] who she thought would benefit from the book."

It never occurred to me when I was writing The Divorce Lawyers' Guide that people would actually shy away from reading the book in public. Divorce has been as common as the common cold since it lost its stigma in the early seventies.

Despite society's acceptance of divorce as the remedy for any and every marital discomfort, it seems that all of us married folk still want to project a My Marriage Is Perfect image to friends and strangers alike. Maybe this explains why the couples that we peg as certain divorce candidates, those couples who wear their dirty marital laundry on their sleeves, are still together and those couples who pretend to be on their honeymoon, four kids and a second mortgage later, "suddenly" announce that their marriage is over.

A single friend attended my book signing last month for moral support but with no intention of reading my book until after he was engaged. He asked if the book was just for married people.

Me: "Well, married people are afraid to read it in public, so I'm thinking maybe single people would feel comfortable reading it in public. In fact, I think that The Divorce Lawyers' Guide to Staying Married would be a great pick-up tool, kind of like a puppy."

Single Friend: "Like I'm such a progressive guy that I would take my marriage very seriously thing."

Me: "Exactly."

Single Friend: "Great idea. I'm going to the car wash today and I'll read it while I'm waiting for my car. Great chick-waiting-for-her-car-to-dry magnet. Thanks!"

Me: "You're welcome. And, oh, the last section is about commitment. Single women would be really impressed if they happened to oversee you intently reading that chapter."

Single Friend: "Great suggestion. I'll read it with a bright yellow highlighter in my hand to emphasize my sincerity."

Me: "By the way, I'm reading this interesting book called Taliban Are People, Too. Want to borrow it?

Single Friend: "Are you kidding? I wouldn't be caught dead reading something like that in public."