trvlgs

So here’s a story: one day, at work—at a bookstore—a bookstore—a coworker (coworker!) walks up to me with a wandering customer and asks:

“Ok. So. Fiction and Non-Fiction: which one’s fake?”

I just stare at her for a few moments, and I probably think about just how much I had to sell myself in my interview. And in a show of inquellable literary snobbiness and personal hurt, I tell her:

“Well, it’s all real…”

I guess that’s Ken Kesey, “It’s all true, even if it didn’t happen.” In that spirit, I should tell you I made up at least one of the characters in this story, and it doesn’t matter who and you’ll never meet any of these people anyway. The customer was looking for a romance novel.