Talkin' About My Conversation

Not long ago I visited a Half Priced Bookstore where, after thirty minutes of browsing, I staggered to the front with an impressive armload of books. Included in this stack were several presidential biographies and a couple of thick novels.

When I dropped the stack next to the cash register, the young lady asked, "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

I said, "Well, when I come in here, I'm not looking for anything. I just grab the books that hit me a certain way."

See looked at my stack and then said, "Well, but you must like to read presidential biographies. You've got some whoppers here."

"Actually," I said, "I'm hoping to write a book some day about the deaths of the presidents, and these looked helpful."

"Oh, so are you a writer?"

"Yes," I said.

"How many books have you written?"

"Twenty," I said.

The woman's mouth dropped open and she looked at me like I was lying between my teeth. "Like twenty? You mean, published and everything? Like, books that are on the shelves?"

"Yes, published and everything,"I said.

"I've never met anyone who has written twenty books," she said. "Who are you?"

I told her my name (actually, I was about to say, "I'm Dan Brown", but I didn't).

"I've heard of you," she said. "People come in her all the time and ask if we have any of your books."

"And do you?"

"What?"

"Have any of my books."

"Never," she said.

"Figures," I told her. "Most of my books are out of print. But they are WAY OUT! Nobody can find them."

"My gosh," she said. "An honest to goodness author. Right here. Wow. You made my day."

"Thanks," I said. "And how much do I owe you?"