And when people ask where they can get my books, I tell them they can always go to Borders – but if they’d like a signed and personalized copy, they can accompany me to the trunk of my car. Where, it turns out, I just happen to have a box or two of books fresh from the publisher and ready for inking. It’s a great way to make friends, not to mention enhancing the revenue stream over and above the somewhat skimpy royalties.

Does anyone else say “I’m an author”?

Why is no one interested in the experiences of a dental assistant?

Justine

The thing is, I was a writer, professionally, for many years, so I would always say, “I’m a writer,” and then if they asked, I would say what newspapers or other publications I’d written for. Now I usually say, “I’m a novelist,” because it’s been years since I wrote for a newspaper.

(But a lot of people seem very confused as to what a novel is. They don’t know they’re fiction, for example.)

The only time I wasn’t sure what to say was when I’d sold my book, but I was still working as a copyeditor. I did both. What did I respond. The one I made more money at? The one I spent more time at? Both? It’s easier when I have one career, I’ll tel you that much.

(And yes, this is a topic that mainly comes up living in DC. Everyone here always wants to know what you do. )

My theory:

AUTHORS

Lots of folks say “I’m a writer” and then when questioned it turns out they haven’t sold anything yet, and perhaps have not finished anything yet. Or perhaps they’re published, but with a small or e-publisher… And the way I see it, lots of folks think “oh, I’ll write a book someday,” and then they don’t want to give you credit for being any more a writer than they are…so the questions are to find out just how “legitimate” you are in their eyes, how much credit they have to give you.

The first version of this happened to me way before I was published: a friend introduced me as a writer at a party (not what I would have wanted) and then I got what I later termed The Questions:

1) Oh. Do you have anything published?

— Um, no.

2) Oh. Have you sold anything?

— Um, no.

3) Have you finished a novel?

— Yes.

At which point the speaker gave me a small amount of credit (presumably they’d never finished a novel), but not much.

More recently, I’ve often gotten a different version (being published):

1) Are you published?

– Yes.

2) Are your books sold in, you know, bookstores? Like, would it be in my local bookstore?

– Yes. Well, B Dalton and Borders should all have my book, and with Barnes & Noble it seems to vary.

3) Wow. [Impressed.] What’s the publisher?

– Um [thinks through four possible responses due to ridiculous publisher musical-chairs-name games.] Signet, which is basically part of Penguin.

Penguin? Wow. [They’ve actually *heard* of Penguin. Now they take me somewhat seriously.)

MOM LAWYER version.

I presume this was due to lots of moms then who had had a career, or had been trained for a career, but had taken time off (or quit entirely) to raise kids. And so they didn’t want to give my mom the status of actually being a lawyer if she wasn’t currently practicing.

Anyway, in both cases, I can kind of understand the questions (as is normal in social interaction, one tries to learn things about folks so one can assign them status and understand where they’re coming from), but have always found them startling and often rude.

Cara (who apologizes for the super-long nature of this comment)

Then again, I did meet a housewife, younger than me, at one of these parties, and then I was the one giving a blank stare, because I’d never met anyone my age who was both childless and unemployed by choice. I’d especially never met a twenty something in this town who could afford it!

Me: She’s a lawyer.

Someone’s Mom: Oh. Does she practice?

Me: Yes.

Her: Does she have an office?

Me: (confused) Uh, yeah.

Her: Wow!

Cara