One might think that my being a regular blogger over the past several years and having written two, award-winning books, I would have tons of book sales and be fending off interviews all the time. Not so... yet.
The truth of the matter is that I am quite quiet in my day-to-day activities, blending almost invisibly into my surroundings and engagingly entertaining pretty much the same regular contacts who feel little inclination to spread the word that they have met me. It is really a very normal life compared to everyone else and I am generally okay with that. I know that author celebrity takes a long time to build, but on the rare occasion that new acquaintances learn of my writing talents, they frequently assume I am already much more of a celebrity than I really am.
Whereas my quiet lifestyle is relatively comfortable, keeps my children safe, and gives me easy access to plenty of writing material that is quite good for my carreer (who would act like themselves in the presence of a celebrity?), and although my writing and stories will eventually touch the hearts of many future generations, my present anonymity really does nothing for book sales or income generation. No, indeed. Despite my obvious talents, for now at least, I am lost in a sea of other would-be's, fitting into the category of "starving artist," writing this blog to engage readers, and spinning my wheels in the pursuit of finding an "in-house" publisher for the books I have written.
Every now and again, I get the mood to search online for ideas to build a little celebrity and jump-start my writing career into better income generation. The past few days have been one of those moods. Let me just say right here and now that I am not going to release a sex-tape and then alert the media that it got out accidentally. Neither will I intentionally be arrested for something scandalously outrageous. One thing I will do, though, is walk around town in a pair of reflective sunglasses, pretending I am so important that I need to hide my identity.
Yesterday, I got the urge to play pretend. Having no idea where my most recent purchase of sunglasses might happen to be, I went to my local Walmart to pick up a cheap new pair. I found one for $10, removed the plastic piece on the temple that prevents people from wearing them out of the store, and slipped them on. I then headed over to my local Cousin's Subs to test out my new celebrity persona.
Inside the sub shop, I did NOT remove my shades. I did scoot them down my nose, once, to read the menu and order, but that was it. I am so important that I might be recognized. Remember? The young man taking my order responded by speaking to me somewhat haltingly and I thought, "Is it really this easy? Is he really fooled? Wow."
As I ate at a table in the restaurant, a woman initiated a smile as she passed me to leave. I thought, "Oh, how nice! She is smiling at the celebrity! I will smile back. Just because I am 'famous' does not mean that I have to be snooty." Feeling pretty good at my success in pretending to be a celebrity, I returned her smile. After lunch, I had nothing else to do so I went home.
Later in the afternoon, my daughter and I hopped in the car to leave for an afternoon appointment. Slippong on my new sunglasses, I explained to her about my new "movie-star sunglasses."
A smirk touched Anne's lips, "Oh yeah?" she asked. "You're going to wear your $10 sunglasses, are you?"
Insult surged through my chest that she would say my "movie-star sunglasses" cost only $10. What made her think that I spent only $10 on them? Maybe I spent $50 or $200. She didn't know. I tried to look as if I didn't care what she thought as I pushed them onto my nose.
"Yep," I confirmed.
Then Anne asked, "Do you want to know HOW I knew they were $10?"
Realization washed over me. No wonder the restaurant worker looked like he did not know how to talk to me. He didn't know how to tell me I still had a price sticker on my cheap sunglasses.
The truth of the matter is that I am quite quiet in my day-to-day activities, blending almost invisibly into my surroundings and engagingly entertaining pretty much the same regular contacts who feel little inclination to spread the word that they have met me. It is really a very normal life compared to everyone else and I am generally okay with that. I know that author celebrity takes a long time to build, but on the rare occasion that new acquaintances learn of my writing talents, they frequently assume I am already much more of a celebrity than I really am.
Whereas my quiet lifestyle is relatively comfortable, keeps my children safe, and gives me easy access to plenty of writing material that is quite good for my carreer (who would act like themselves in the presence of a celebrity?), and although my writing and stories will eventually touch the hearts of many future generations, my present anonymity really does nothing for book sales or income generation. No, indeed. Despite my obvious talents, for now at least, I am lost in a sea of other would-be's, fitting into the category of "starving artist," writing this blog to engage readers, and spinning my wheels in the pursuit of finding an "in-house" publisher for the books I have written.
Every now and again, I get the mood to search online for ideas to build a little celebrity and jump-start my writing career into better income generation. The past few days have been one of those moods. Let me just say right here and now that I am not going to release a sex-tape and then alert the media that it got out accidentally. Neither will I intentionally be arrested for something scandalously outrageous. One thing I will do, though, is walk around town in a pair of reflective sunglasses, pretending I am so important that I need to hide my identity.
Yesterday, I got the urge to play pretend. Having no idea where my most recent purchase of sunglasses might happen to be, I went to my local Walmart to pick up a cheap new pair. I found one for $10, removed the plastic piece on the temple that prevents people from wearing them out of the store, and slipped them on. I then headed over to my local Cousin's Subs to test out my new celebrity persona.
Inside the sub shop, I did NOT remove my shades. I did scoot them down my nose, once, to read the menu and order, but that was it. I am so important that I might be recognized. Remember? The young man taking my order responded by speaking to me somewhat haltingly and I thought, "Is it really this easy? Is he really fooled? Wow."
As I ate at a table in the restaurant, a woman initiated a smile as she passed me to leave. I thought, "Oh, how nice! She is smiling at the celebrity! I will smile back. Just because I am 'famous' does not mean that I have to be snooty." Feeling pretty good at my success in pretending to be a celebrity, I returned her smile. After lunch, I had nothing else to do so I went home.
Later in the afternoon, my daughter and I hopped in the car to leave for an afternoon appointment. Slippong on my new sunglasses, I explained to her about my new "movie-star sunglasses."
A smirk touched Anne's lips, "Oh yeah?" she asked. "You're going to wear your $10 sunglasses, are you?"
Insult surged through my chest that she would say my "movie-star sunglasses" cost only $10. What made her think that I spent only $10 on them? Maybe I spent $50 or $200. She didn't know. I tried to look as if I didn't care what she thought as I pushed them onto my nose.
"Yep," I confirmed.
Then Anne asked, "Do you want to know HOW I knew they were $10?"
Realization washed over me. No wonder the restaurant worker looked like he did not know how to talk to me. He didn't know how to tell me I still had a price sticker on my cheap sunglasses.
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