I’m Too Old for this Crap

By Keith N Fisher

Did I mention I don’t like interviews? Did I mention I loathe interviews? Well, that’s a little harsh. I want to put out a contract . . . Just kidding. Last week I wrote about similarities between pitching my book to an editor and pitching myself for a job interview. I really don’t like pitching myself, but you knew that already.

This week I showed up 20 minutes early but couldn’t find the building. It was in one of those, technology campus style complex of different buildings. It’s the old Word Perfect Campus if you are familiar. Anyway, I learned to never assume anything. I was out walking through the oldest part looking for a certain building and I had trouble breathing.

When you are my age and you take blood pressure medication, that can be a serious thing. Added to the stress of trying to not be late, on top of nerves about pitching myself and you have a recipe for disaster. I made it back to my car, rolled down the windows, started breathing again, and called trying to reschedule.

After leaving the message, I spent the next half-hour finding the right building. Another five minutes finding a place to park, and realized it would take another five minutes to walk to the door. Did I mention I hate interviews?

So while hoping I could still reschedule, I did an uncharacteristic thing and blew it off. I went to visit my father’s grave. I figured that since I was in the neighborhood . . . while driving back home, with my pulse back under control, they called and told me to go back. This time I could park in reserve parking.

I did, and I cooled my heals and they said they would reschedule. Did I tell you I hate interviews?

On a positive note, I placed my national market book in the hands of beta readers. It wasn’t edited, but they will mark it up for me.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.