You want me to do what? Or, a nervous author faces her first solo booksignings. Let me preface this by saying, I am an inherently shy person. Those of you who know me personally… Shut. Up. And quit laughing. It’s true. I am painfully shy and always have been. It just manifests itself in weird ways. See, if I’m introduced to someone first, I’m okay. I can talk about any subject under the sun. If I’m part of a small group, you’d be hard pressed to shut me up, really. Tell me I have to walk into a room full of strangers and introduce myself, you’ll find me over in the corner in a fetal position clutching my blanky. This is, essentially, what a booksigning feels like to me. Add that to the horror stories I’ve heard about authors sitting at a table and the only people who talk to them are the folks looking for the bathroom and mix in a healthy dose of overactive writer imagination and you can figure that sleep’s been pretty hard to come by lately.Now, I’m not a complete booksigning neophyte—I’ve done the RWA literacy signings and various other group signings and I love…