An Interview with…Myself

I’ve been reading all of these great “author interviews” and since no one is beating down my door for an interview (save for Arline Fleming – thank you!) I thought I’d conduct “An Interview with Myself.”  So here goes (of note: I’m in a goofy mood):

Me:  So what made you decide to write a book?

Myself:  I believe it was a mid-life crisis.

Me:  No, seriously.  What was the epiphany?

Myself:  Ha ha ha, you said “phany”.  That’s funny.

Me:  Ooookay, let’s try another question.  Who is your main character, Theo, based on?

Myself:  My son.

Me:  What specifically about your son makes Theo who he is?

Myself:  Theo is eleven years old and my son is eleven years old.  It was simple math.  Although I suck at math, so I guess it wasn’t that simple.

Me:  So you would say you are more of a right-brainer?

Myself:  More like a no-brainer.

Me:  Excuse me?

Myself:  Did you toot?

Me:  No!  Did you?!?!

Myself:  You would know.

Me:  This is ridiculous, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.

Myself:  This is ridiculous, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.

Me:  Ugh!  Ok, let’s try to get back on track.  Are you working on a second book?

Myself:  Yes.

Me:  How far have you gotten?

Myself:  In life or on the book?

Me:  On. The. Book.

Myself:  I’m on chapter four, but would be on chapter five by now if I wasn’t interviewing myself right now.

Me:  I’m the one interviewing Myself.

Myself:  Me, Myself, hey, where’s I?

Me:  Wait, what?  But you wanted to do the interview!

Myself:  I believe it was you who suggested it and I agreed.

Me:  Fine!  I’ll answer the questions then myself.

Myself:  But I’m Myself, so that’s not gonna work.

Me:  Can you at least answer one question?!?

Myself:  Sure.

Me:  WHY DID YOU WRITE A BOOK?

Myself:  Because I wanted to bring smiles to millions of little faces.

Me:  Finally!  That’s a great answer.  What’s your biggest wish right now?

Myself:  World peace.

Me:  That’s nice, but I meant with regard to the book.

Myself:  Oh.  That a wonderful literary agent will say these magic words to me, “I’ll represent you.”

Me:  What if that doesn’t happen?

Myself:  I’ll cry like a big ol’ baby.  Can I go work on book two now?

Me:  Sure, I’ll help you.

Myself:  That’s ok, I can handle it.  I don’t want it to be all about Me.

Me:  You’re sooooo funny.

Myself:  It takes one to know one.

Me:  I know.

Myself:  You found I!

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