If you looked at me, I bet you couldn’t tell I was a writer. Okay, you’d notice the permanent squint and the fact that I’m almost always dictating or scribbling, but you might put that down to being obsessive compulsive.
You would be closer guessing that I’m a dog owner from the Sheltie hair on my black pants. I’m forever carrying around either a lint brush or a sticky roller – most of the time it doesn’t do any good.
Or, you could ask me to empty my pockets. Nine times out of ten I have kibble in my left pocket, my phone and recorder in my right.
But there’s a dead giveaway that I’ve started becoming a nature gal: the spots all over my neck and right hand.
You see, I’ve been taking Flash to the park every day. I put a 30′ training lead on him so he can wander around, then return to where I’m sitting and working. (I reason that I get enough exercise in the gym – these outings are for fresh air and a change of pace.)
The other day we were playing and I bent down to get some of his extra lead, not realizing that I had encountered a fire ant pile until my hand started to sting. Then, I was frantically brushing them off my hand, only for some of them to get on my blouse and upward, to my neck.
I had about ten bites on my neck and they swelled and left scars.
We went to another park the day after that. To my surprise, there are a lot of parks right around my house. See, I told you I’m becoming a nature gal. But let’s not go overboard. I mean, I drive to the park and meander with Flash. There is not much sweat happening, and when it gets warmer, we’ll probably skip the park.
I did make a t-shirt once on Zazzle.com that said: “If you make me mad, you’ll be a victim in my next book.” Maybe I should wear that t-shirt so people would realize I’m a writer, not just a spotted dog walker.