Open book.
I was interviewing someone last week for Small Publication. His house was right down the street from the place I’m taking a class this semester. And when I got there, making conversation, I mentioned this. He said, “Oh yeah, what class?” I said, with wave-of-hand, “Creative Writing. It’s just for fun.” Then we talked about books while I set up the interview.

So we went on and did the interview, and on the way out, he says to me by way of goodbye, “Write the Great American Novel.” And I laughed.

But here’s the thing. He saw right the fuck through me, because: It's only in high school that you take creative writing classes just for fun. But he knew, that when you’re an adult, if you take such a class, it’s Never for fun. It’s for a Goal; it’s because you do secretly fancy yourself the Next Great American novelist and you fear you're running out of time, whoever it is you really are.


P.S – And it’s good he called me out on it. Because you can’t downplay that aspect of yourself and then write even the Middling American Novel. You have to lay it out there, so everyone knows. It’s either part of you or not.