I was on the first line of a new book that I have procrastinated writing; since first deciding to write this book I have written three others. “Addiction to fear…” I began and the phone rang. An unidentified phone number, I started not to answer. “Is this a telemarketer?”
I was assured that the call was place as an inquiry from a major book publisher.
I listened and took notes. And then in response to each question I poured my heart out. “No, I don’t care about getting rich, becoming famous…” And of course he wanted to know why.
By the time our conversation had drawn to a conclusion I learned that this man was from a vanity press publisher which was owned by the major publisher and yes, I had just gushed my way through personal goals and I had done this with (yup) a telemarketer.
If becoming a responsible adult is a reasonable goal I may very well live to be a hundred and fifty. (Yes, I do plan to use a pseudonym and I also plan to give some of the money away. Twenty books in the making, so far.)