Coming out…
…as a writer, I mean.
The other week I ran into an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in a year or more, and the inevitable question clanged into the conversation during our “Oh my God! It’s you!” catch-up.
“So…how’s life treating you?”
I blushed, and mumbled something along the lines of “Yeah, yeah, fine.”
Better than fine actually – I’ve sold three books within a five-month period; two of those within four days of each other – but the more I brushed it off, the more my friend persisted.
Why do I get embarrassed and tongue-tied when it comes to telling people I’m a published writer? Perhaps it’s because I’m British – we just don’t brag, you know. And when you bring…whisper it…smut…into the mix, well, no thank you. I’m also reticent about publicity, which is why I failed at job interviews nine times out of ten – the whole “Sell yourself,” makes me self-conscious and more likely to screw up.
Writing’s the perfect job for me – my commute is from the bed to my office, and my uniform is pyjamas. All ‘interviews’ are conducted by email in the form of queries and no editor who rejects my work ever sees me curl up in the corner, sucking my thumb and crying all over my favourite teddy bear. Not something that would go down too well if I were interviewing for an office job, for example.
How do other writers feel about answering the question, “What do you do?”
Do you, like me, get to the point every so often where you wish you had the bottle to stand in the city square and randomly shout it to the world, daring people to roll their eyes or laugh?
For the record, I don’t. I’d be scared of the men in white coats coming to take me away…
Despite my avoidance of fleshpeoples and my desire to stay holed up in my office all day (and night), occasionally I acquire invites to go…outside. I know it’s good for me to venture out occasionally, or my skin would turn green through lack of Vitamin D.
But sometimes deadlines loom or an exciting new idea takes over my brain and I hold back from just saying so. I should own it, I know. Muttering, “Well, um, actually, I can’t…I’m kinda busy…” makes me look ashamed of whatever it is which occupies my time, but how do you strike a balance between writing time and socialising?
How hard is it for others to ‘come out’ as a writer?
And so to the blurbage – after I say thank you to Dawn for having me today.
Something doesn’t add up.
Lydia's looking for a job not a lover, but after her interview at Saint Joseph's
University, she ends up with both. There's a need for discretion despite her
bright pink hair and Doctor Spencer Flynn's candy apple red Mustang; after
all, she's an admin assistant now, he's a lecturer in applied mathematics and they work together. So they conduct their liaisons behind closed doors which is all right with Lydia; she's never experienced chemistry like it.
‘Discreet’ soon begins to look a lot like ‘secretive’ and a last-minute cancellation of a date prompts Lydia to rethink her role in the relationship.
Braced for a break-up, she's amazed when Spencer confesses the secret he's
been keeping all along. His loyalties are divided and when Lydia's attempts to hold on to his attention backfire publicly, she wonders if playing house with a mathematician is a zero-sum game...
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PLUS ONE will be available from the Carnal Passions bookstore this month. Other updates and purchase links on Scarlett’s blog here. She can be contacted at scarlettparrish@gmail.com .
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