I had someone say something to me that made me think yesterday.
I walked into the bar at the country club and said hello to a bunch of my lady friends and one woman who is more of just an acquaintance that I haven’t seen in a while says, “Hey, I hear you’re famous!” I laughed and said, “Famous? I don’t know about that but I wrote a book” And she said, “Well that’s famous!” I said, “Oh thank you.” I didn’t want to be a dick but I thought in my head that yes this book is selling really hot but I’d have to sell a few more thousand books in order to be called famous.
Which made me think… Do I want to be famous? I mean, I don’t know. It’s been said people do things for one of three reasons – money, power, fame. Now, I can tell you without hesitation that I write for the money. Dollah dollah bills, y’all. But like not because I think I have the next great American novel. I would definitely love to be wealthy. Without a doubt, I could do rich. I’ve had enough of being poor. But not obnoxiously rich. I don’t need Versace china or a house with a bowling alley or disco or anything. I just want to be able to pay my bills and to afford the few luxuries I’d like, like travelling and a car that runs. I’ve never been a jewelry, clothing, or handbag whore. Eh, ok maybe shoes. I love shoes. I dream of being able to own a pair of Manolo Blahniks. But I would still probably be hesitant if they were like over $100.
Power? I don’t get that one. I have no desire whatsoever. Maybe if you call wanting to control my own career power, then yea. But as far as wanting to be President of the US or CEO of a company, no. Well I’d be CEO for the money not the power. And I always see movies or something with women attracted to men with power. That means absolutely nothing to me. Unless you have the “power” to get us a good table at one of the best restaurants, I might be interested. I think I’m attracted to the opposite, men that don’t use a position of money or authority to have “power” over others. I like men that are kind and loving. I don’t like showy douchebags puffin’ out there chest everywhere they go.
Famous? I mean I’d like to be popular so you buy lots of my books. I don’t think I’d like to be so famous that I couldn’t go to the store without a disguise. But it would be nice to have people recognize me and say they love my work in the future. I’ve had a couple of instances lately where people I’ve met were like, “Oh yea I heard you on the radio” or “I read a review in the paper”. That’s nice. I’m still filled with so much self-doubt it will probably take to the end of time until I can truly accept recognition like that. Those people both said I was really funny but probably when someone comes up to me and says, “You’re book sucks”, I’ll say “You’re damn right it does!”. Nah, I’m not that bad but I am always striving to be better. I always think there’s room for improvement.
So famous… I’m not even sure what that word means. Infamous, yes. I think I’ve been that before. At least according to my ex-husband. Fame. Hmmmm. Let’s go look…
|The condition of being known or talked about by many people, esp. on account of notable achievements.|
Oh ok. I could deal with that. I guess I confuse fame with celebrity. I thought they were sort of the same. According to dictionary celebrity means…
So, I guess they are. Well, I don’t know whatever. I would like to be well known but I was raised that fame was sort of a narcissistic thing, I guess that’s all in the interpretation. I’m over-thinking this aren’t I? Ok well I’m off to have my assistant give me a gold leaf manicure… ta ta.