In the cool of this Saturday evening, the sun now diminished to hues of gold and red, I share a few profound thoughts about how my family feels about me being a writer.
All right. Maybe not so profound, but at least honest.
I’ll interview my ten-year-old son first.
Here we go. The following will be his actual responses to my questions.
Me: Son, what do you think about your mom being a writer?
Him: Um, I think it’s weird cuz I hate writing.
Me: Really? Why do you hate writing?
Him: I like Star Wars.
Me: What does that have to do with writing?
Him: The original Star Wars was a book. That was worth writing. But write this part down Mom, okay? Are you writing this?
Me: Yes.
Him: Star Wars books aren’t as accurate as the movies.
Me: All right. Thanks for answering my questions. I’ll go ask your dad.
(Now, standing in front of my hubby in the kitchen.)
Dear, how do you feel about me being a writer?
Him: Proud.
Me: That’s it? Anything else?
Him: Happy? I don’t know. What do you want me to say?
Me: This is not helpful. Never mind.
Him: No really, I love you’re a writer.
Me: (Smiles endearingly.)
END OF INTERVIEWS.
How about you? How does your family feel about your writing?
