Monday's Musings

Monday’s Musing: Who Am I?

Who Am I?

Over the weekend, I stumbled across a blog by another writer discussing how awkward it is to answer people when they inquire about his occupation.

A blog after my own heart.

This particular writer felt that he needed to call himself a writer, not an author, because nothing had been published yet. He also hated that, when he did say he was an author, people automatically assumed that he should have the words New York Times Bestseller after his name.

I feel his pain. I really hate telling people that I’m a writer, author, or anything else because the reaction is usually the same:

Person: And what do you do?

Me: Uh…I’m an author.

Person: (pause, blinks) Oh, my grandmother once wrote a book (proceeds to tell me about Grandma Warner’s book about making bread with a rock and a cat ran by)

Me: (rolls eyes)

Yes, I admit it, I’m an eye-roller. Although, to be fair, I only imagine that I roll my eyes. As much as I’d like to actually do this, I don’t.

The only thing worse than this is the following conversation:

Person: And what do you do?

Me: Uh…I’m an author.

Person: (pause, blinks) I always wanted to write a book. It must be so easy. I have this great story about…(tells me their great story)

Me: (rolls eyes)

Although this might be tied with the old “I have a great book you should write about my life…” response.

If you want to see me roll my eyes, get me to a family event when someone learns that I have published over 30 books, many of them best-sellers on Amazon and on the ECPA list. The surprised look on their face shouldn’t catch me off-guard anymore, even when they say, “Really? I didn’t know that! (pause, blink) You know, I always wanted to write a book…”

Can you imagine a doctor having this same conversation?

Me: So, what do you do?

Doctor: I’m a neurosurgeon.

Me: (pause, blinks) I always wanted to be a brain surgeon. You know, my mother was like a brain surgeon; she took out my splinters. You should write a book about my mother and her life taking care of us…”

It just wouldn’t fly, would it?

There is a verse in the Bible that I love to reference about this topic:

“A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.”

There’s a layer of truth to this for many professions. Last Friday, I wrote about what success really means. If we do something for the wrong reasons, we often do not find success. For me, while it would be nice if once in a while someone gave me a thumbs up or a high five in town, I do not write in order to be recognized. I write because I love the act of writing.

By nature, I am a storyteller. If my husband asks me how my day was, my response always begins with, “You will never believe what happened…”

My children love to do things with me because “everything you do is an adventure,” according to Cat. Even Alex comments about how when we do things together, we always have something crazy happen to us.”

There are two sides of Sarah Price…the one that walks down the streets of Morristown in anonymity and the one that travels around the country to sign books, meet with my readers, and find interesting places to write.

The former is an unknown entity while the latter spends 18-20 hours a day writing books in order to meet deadlines or to tame the creative juices that explode from my neurons. And when she is not writing, she lives life large.

Maybe that should be my answer the next time someone asks me what I do.

“I live life.”

I bet that would cause a few people to think before responding….

3 thoughts on “Monday’s Musing: Who Am I?

  1. You deserve to live life large. I know how hard you work for your readers! You are a miracle to me! I adore your books and you just keep them coming for us! I was very fortunate to meet you and your husband in a tiny town in Alabama, so I know how many of your readers you try to meet. You are a special author and a special person!

  2. Hey. Have you ever lived in Pennsylvania? Maybe we were neighbors when we were little? Did you ever have a red wagon?

    (pause, blinks) Uh yes and no and no.

    Can we be friends anyway?

    (no pause) Yes!

    So, what do you do?

    Try to find my joy.

    Love you, Girl! <3

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