Author Strange and the Bookless Humans
You are not going to believe this. But I did not want to do this. You know…this! A…blog. But I think I will just have some fun with it.
I have found that as I have gotten more writerly in my old age. I should not talk to actual bookless humans. You guys have seen them. They have feet and walk, and fart and eat. But do not read. And I am a strange SOB anyway. When I am in a room full of people, I want to talk about wonderful things. Like me, for instance. Okay, that doesn’t always go well. But I did say I was strange okay!
But usually the easiest conversation you can have is about what you’ve read. Or, something you just saw on TV, that led you to something you’ve read. And I’m sorry all you TV heads, but Game of Thrones is a damn book! It is not a TV show! That’s why they turned the thing into something different from the BOOKS! Because, had he not written them, he would be some broke writer sitting in his room on Saturday ranting on a book…site. Okay, too close to home.
Now I know it takes some time, and you actually have to sit down and allow yourself some reflection, and then choose a book. But it helps with conversation. Where else will all those code heads find out about the opposite sex. Or sex! In a book! When I’m sitting in a room full of people, with nothing to do but just sit. I mean they don’t put f-ing magazines in waiting rooms hardly anymore. Now that is definitely not a good sign. And I want to tell someone about something incredible that happened to me. Say like…like Halle Berry asking me out on a date. (Shutup! I write fantasy. I make up what I want.) Well I happened to have a written a book. You want to get a strange look from people try this: Walk into a room topless, or with your pants down, or tell them you’ve written a novel. You’ll get a: that person is a lunatic and I need to ignore them and not let them touch me, look. You know the look. Yes. If you are around bookless humans, and tell them you are an author. You will get that look. And if you keep trying to broach the issue. They will say something like: Wow. I knew a guy who wrote a book once. And then the conversation sort of goes…nowhere! And I mean, like I don’t want to know what this asshole has got in his head, so I’m going back to my office, nowhere!
And other weird things have started happening to me. I used to go into my office like two hours early, and sit at my desk and write. I have a laptop, and I have a notepad. And when the time for work starts, I stop and get at it. But now there are rumors that I am up to something. That I am working on my book all during the day. Now I don’t know about most writers, but I need to be in a fairly quiet environment to write. For fiction, at least. I can do reports and other things. Even research an issue, or do some nonfiction paper with people gabbing around me. But for fiction, I cannot be around people. I know this because I have tried it. Apparently, when I get quiet, people get nervous. Like maybe I will turn into a dragon or something. If I am sitting somewhere and thinking, people stop to ask me if I’m okay. I am not making this up. “No. I’m fine,” I’ll say.
“You sure, bro? You just looked troubled there for a minute. What’s on you mine?”
And I’m like: “Trust me. You don’t want to know.” Then I go back to my office.
I have found that as I have gotten more writerly in my old age. I should not talk to actual bookless humans. You guys have seen them. They have feet and walk, and fart and eat. But do not read. And I am a strange SOB anyway. When I am in a room full of people, I want to talk about wonderful things. Like me, for instance. Okay, that doesn’t always go well. But I did say I was strange okay!
But usually the easiest conversation you can have is about what you’ve read. Or, something you just saw on TV, that led you to something you’ve read. And I’m sorry all you TV heads, but Game of Thrones is a damn book! It is not a TV show! That’s why they turned the thing into something different from the BOOKS! Because, had he not written them, he would be some broke writer sitting in his room on Saturday ranting on a book…site. Okay, too close to home.
Now I know it takes some time, and you actually have to sit down and allow yourself some reflection, and then choose a book. But it helps with conversation. Where else will all those code heads find out about the opposite sex. Or sex! In a book! When I’m sitting in a room full of people, with nothing to do but just sit. I mean they don’t put f-ing magazines in waiting rooms hardly anymore. Now that is definitely not a good sign. And I want to tell someone about something incredible that happened to me. Say like…like Halle Berry asking me out on a date. (Shutup! I write fantasy. I make up what I want.) Well I happened to have a written a book. You want to get a strange look from people try this: Walk into a room topless, or with your pants down, or tell them you’ve written a novel. You’ll get a: that person is a lunatic and I need to ignore them and not let them touch me, look. You know the look. Yes. If you are around bookless humans, and tell them you are an author. You will get that look. And if you keep trying to broach the issue. They will say something like: Wow. I knew a guy who wrote a book once. And then the conversation sort of goes…nowhere! And I mean, like I don’t want to know what this asshole has got in his head, so I’m going back to my office, nowhere!
And other weird things have started happening to me. I used to go into my office like two hours early, and sit at my desk and write. I have a laptop, and I have a notepad. And when the time for work starts, I stop and get at it. But now there are rumors that I am up to something. That I am working on my book all during the day. Now I don’t know about most writers, but I need to be in a fairly quiet environment to write. For fiction, at least. I can do reports and other things. Even research an issue, or do some nonfiction paper with people gabbing around me. But for fiction, I cannot be around people. I know this because I have tried it. Apparently, when I get quiet, people get nervous. Like maybe I will turn into a dragon or something. If I am sitting somewhere and thinking, people stop to ask me if I’m okay. I am not making this up. “No. I’m fine,” I’ll say.
“You sure, bro? You just looked troubled there for a minute. What’s on you mine?”
And I’m like: “Trust me. You don’t want to know.” Then I go back to my office.
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