One of the cool things about having an agent(!!!) is that my friends and family feel compelled to brag about me.  I’m okay with this.  But it does lead to some weird conversations sometimes.  I’m pretty sure that a lot of writers have experienced something like this.

For example, I went to a costume party at a friend’s house last week (as Batman, thank you very much.  Kevin was Deadpool.  Yes, we wore onesies.).  When we entered, the host gleefully shouted across the room that she was SO PROUD OF ME and told everyone that I, Bess Carnan, was getting published.  (There was some alcohol at the party.  The mix-up was understandable.)  I demurely explained that actually, I’d gotten an agent(!!!).  Since we were a little late to the party, not many people heard me.

The one guy that did though, came over to me and said “That’s really cool.  I wanna be a writer some day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.  It’d be, I dunno, cool or something.”

Then he wandered off and that was the end of the conversation.

I think this is something writers encounter a lot.  There are certainly enough blog posts about it.  Somehow the endless of trudge, trudge, trudging of writing sounds like a fanciful, far-off dream to a lot of folks and they think “Oh, that’s nice.  Like getting a pony.  Maybe someday.”

How did writing become so ethereal?  People either think it’s a fun game or a waste of time because it’s not real.  Did Jane Austen-no, Jane Austen definitely had people telling her that writing was a silly game, what am I thinking?  She was a woman in the 1700s.  Um… Oscar Wilde?  Actually, I can see him contributing to the idea that writing is a fun little hobby.

Anyway, I assume that it’s always been this way, except for-probably- rich white men who write literature.  Things always seem to be a little smoother there.  But that’s a digression.  Probably writers have always had people patting them on the head or scolding them for not doing real work.  Or saying “that sounds like fun.  Maybe I’ll try my hand at it.”

Anyway, a far more important topic of conversation is my Halloween costume, of which I am exceptionally proud.  Say hello to Snow Princess Bess:

Yes, that is my wedding dress.  I swore I’d wear it again, what more perfect time than a holiday that demands dressing up?  I do feel particularly princess-y in it.  The tiara is from my embarrassingly large collection (my mom felt that no school dance outfit was complete without one.  I… didn’t disagree) and who knows where the wand is from, but I love it.

Of course, moving around the house is a bit of a challenge in the big floofy skirt, but I look fantastic, and that’s what really matters.

Have any of you had a weird conversation about writing?  What are you wearing for Halloween?  Post pics in the comments- I’d love to see!

P.S.  Deadline to turn in my MS to my agent(!!!) is Friday.  AAAH!