Jul. 25th, 2005

pbray: (Chill)
Finalizing the details for my trip west to attend my cousin's wedding. She's very proud of my writing and has done her best to launch a one-woman sales wave for each book as it comes out. I've never met most of her friends, but I'm sure if she's told them anything at all about me, she'll have told them that I'm a writer.

Thus warned, I know to expect to feel a little like one of the animals that Jack Hanna trots out on Letterman.

Most people don't encounter writers in their daily lives, so there's a bit of natural curiosity. The questions will range from polite interest in my work to impertinent requests for how much I make. Some people will nod wisely and tell me that I should write for movies or TV instead, since that is where the money is. Others will ask me why I'm not doing chicklit, or aiming my books at the YA market since JK Rowling is such a success.

And inevitably, at least one person will feel compelled to share their great idea for a book with me.

Why do people think that authors are desperate for ideas? Ideas are easy, it's writing the damn book that's hard. Even if I were as prolific as Nora Roberts or Isaac Asimov, I still couldn't get to all the ideas that I have in my head.

So the next time someone comes up with a drink in hand, and proposes that I write his brilliant idea for a lesbian fantasy epic, "Just like Conan the Barbarian, but they're all chicks, get it?" that we can sell to Showtime, because everyone knows they love that kind of stuff, I'll once again have to regretfully decline. Though naturally I'll wish him the best of luck, and suggest that since writing is the easy part, he should write it himself and that way he won't have to share the profits.

March 2025

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