the liberry

Sunday I went to the library.  I love the library like a fat kid loves cake.  Seriously…the smell, the shelves, the people watching.  The entire experience is nearly spiritual for me.  Anyway, I spent a while there, and I started thinking about how I choose books and something I would do if I were an author.   

To be fair (to myself), I already DO believe I’m an author, but only in my mind, and even then I like to imagine myself wearing fancy scarves or horned rimmed glasses.  I digress. So, I started thinking about how I tend to look for the same authors or in the same places when I go to the library.  I am a fan of Elizabeth Berg, Alice Hoffman, and many others, and usually I head the B or H section of the fiction books to see if there are any new offerings from my favorites.  I got lucky this time in that lately, I have been to the library so infrequently, there were a few new books I hadn’t read.   And I started to think that if I wrote a novel, I might just go by a pseudonym or rename myself altogether.  Like, perhaps, Kate Updike (imagine how many people wouldn’t find The Witches of Eastwick and would turn to me for solace). Or, how about Kate King – which would put me right before Stephen, and right near Barbara Kingsolver – two of my favorites.  I could pick something like Kate Meyer.  I wouldn’t feel badly stealing any of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight fans. She got lucky. VERRRRRY lucky – she told a great story.  But, her writing? Terrible. I could go on and on - not only about Meyers but also about different options for my new name...

My point is this – I can’t write like these people.  Not even close - or at least I've not been lucky enough yet. But if the majority of people who frequent the library are like me, I could really win big by dropping Willaredt and going with something more accessible.  I mean, really.  Because who is reading this? I’m just saying.