This morning, on very little caffeine and even less sleep, I found myself in one of those conversations. You know the kind…
And then… it strayed into money.
(How exactly did this guy know I was working on a novel? I’m sure I didn’t tell him.) (Why, yes… as a matter of fact he is divorced again.)
Okay, fine. It’s not exactly a secret. I like to use my lunch hour to work, and that means I don’t get to keep a lid on it. Someday, I hope to put the full power of small-town pride behind my book.
At this point, people ask me how the novel is going, and I ask “which one?” And if that’s not motivation to get cracking on whatever you’re working on, I don’t know what is. Seriously, it’s a response that’s right up there with the first time you get to say “married” when someone asks about your ex. (Five stars. Highly recommend.) And if they don’t actually know anything about what you’re writing… well, usually they take the hint.
He did not take the hint.
And I… well, I had very little sleep last night.
He asked me about money. (You know… those millions that will automatically rain down upon me, as soon as I publish a book.) I hate when people ask me about money.
Since I’m definitely not going to talk about money… I asked him about his football career. You… watch football, don’t you? (He does. It’s a fact I only know due to numerous pieces of clothing he was wearing at that moment, and also a tattoo.) So, I asked if he was gonna make the team this year. And how much money he thought he’d make when he did.
Then, I asked why my hobby is any different.