I don’t talk about it that much

So, the other day, the Marvelous Miss B pulled out some paper, arranged herself on the floor, and pulled out a pen (one of my Uni-ball Vision Elites). Then, ankles crossed, she started writing. Here’s what she said about that:

“I’m writing this book for my agent. My agent looooves this book.”

Uh, I don’t talk about my agent (!!!) that much. I don’t. Honest.

But apparently, the life of a writer is pretty boring, because a moment later, she drew lines across the page, gathered up ten or so stuffed animals, and school was in session.

Why do I get the feeling that I’d just been schooled?

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2 thoughts on “I don’t talk about it that much”

hahahahahaha!

What surprises me is how many people I haven’t told about it yet. I think it’s because we had to keep it secret for so long. So I’ll be in the middle of a conversation and I’ll slip in something about our agent (!) or the book (!!!) and the person I’m talking to will be like, “SAY WHAT!?!?!” And then I get to relive the excitement all over again.

This author stuff? F-U-N.