I’m writing this from the workplace break room. I’m never totally sure what the best way to be productive during an hour full of interruptions. Headphones? A nice, anti-social Rottweiler by my feet? Maybe the truth is that the social stuff is building my network of cheerleaders for when I finally do publish. Uhn… well, it would be, if I were the share the book with the co-workers type.
There’s a very specific look I’ve come to expect when I explain the premise of the novel. Oh, really? Is there a medication you should be on?
You can actually recognize the closet sci-fi readers because they’re the ones who don’t give you that look. Really? Quantum entanglement across time? I thought I was the only one.
The last few days, I’ve had very chatty lunches. Today? Silence.
I really can’t decide whether I’d tell people I write, if I had it to do over again. I go back and forth on that. Are they really being encouraging, or are they just watching for the explosion? Maybe the truth is they ask about the novel the way I ask about their kids. Thrilled that everything is going well, but they don’t really want to hear about the toilet training.