polka dot suitcase

It happened again this morning. Big Fish called up, “Hey, J.K. Rowling’s going to be on the news in a couple minutes. Want to come watch for inspiration?”

It’s not the first time someone’s implied that if I just wrote a best seller, I’d live happily ever after in financial bliss. Oh, is that all I have to do? What the heck have I been waiting for? I think I have some free time this weekend. Maybe I’ll bang one out.

Sure, the thought of just writing fiction all day is appealing. No juggling multiple deadlines, no tracking down sources, or navigating the nonstop barrage from unsolicited publicists (just how my email got around to all those PR people, I’d love to know).

But the truth is, I like what I’m doing. I am blessed to work with some of the best editors you could ever hope for. (Uh…in case any are reading, I guess I should change that to “for which I could ever hope.”) As a Jackie-of-all-trades, I love the variety of the stories. Heck, I got to learn about feline renal failure, the tree-climbing trend, how to make a butterfly garden, dog yoga, how to keep a toddler happy in a restaurant, travel to Disney World, and more — all in one year alone. That was just the magazine work. For books, I’ve been able to study the human body, the environment, how energy works, learn more than I’d ever wanted to know about a certain comedian, and study the history and culture of food. I’m one lucky duck.

ride-the-duck

And yet…there’s that allure fiction writers have. That frazzled, slightly touched-about-the-head, glasses askew, dishevelled hair kind of writer who burns the candle way into the night, pulling characters and plots out of the cabinets and drawers in their brain. To get paid to do that is remarkable. According to my kids’ early drawings (in which you could always pick out which stick figure was me because my hair was always four inches long and stuck straight out from my head like I had a permanent Van de Graaf generator stuck in my pocket), I’ve got the hair for the job. Now all I need is a plot. If anyone sees one laying around, do send it my way, would you? My fortune awaits.