Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.

- Graycie Harmon

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Sign Please?

I wrote 5 000 words yesterday.

I just wanted to put that down. It makes me smile.

Yesterday evening, after my physio appointment, I was treated to dinner by my friend K.R. K.R. is the only person to have bought a physical copy of The Dying God & Other Stories since it came out. Yup, I have a sale of 1.

That's all beside the point.

The purpose of the dinner, other than to hang out and rant about life, was to have me sign the copy she bought. It was really, really... weird. It was just weird. I felt so embarrassed signing the book. I don't know why. It just was embarrassing.

Flattering, too. I mean, I didn't mind signing for her at all.

It was just... famous people sign stuff. I'm not famous, or even mildly popular... I'm just... well, me. Signing something (that I wrote) for someone, even though she was my friend, and I was very flattered, just felt... weird.

Here's what I want to know - if there's anyone even mildly famous who has ever been approached for a signature that has happened across this post for some obscure reason, does it ever stop feeling so damned odd?


Abiding, dwelling, resident. Of water, standing, not running away. Adapted from Latin commorantem, to tarry, abide.
- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893

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