Yesterday I signed my first book deal. I had reactions of my own, namely extreme excitement combined with an odd sensation of worrying vertigo. It turns out finding the handle of one of your dreams and finally getting a grip on it is just as terrifying as it is satisfying – I find myself thinking of the work ahead. Of which there is plenty: having signed with a small company, I’m about to get an exciting crash course in marketing.
It doesn’t feel like a brass ring, or like a lottery ticket. It feels like another step, if it is a by-and-large HUGE and wonderful step filled with bacon cheeseburgers and puppies and happy things. It made me wonder, what would previous incarnations of myself think?
26 and 7
Bobby (26) : “Hey, seven-year-old me! We finally got published!”
Bobby (7) : “Well duuuuh. Was your story about cats or penguins, like my story?”
Bobby (26): “Sorry bud. I’m afraid I’ve pretty much retired myself from ‘anthropomorphic animals go somewhere wacky’ genre.”
Bobby (7): “I don’t even know who you are. Is Raphael still your favorite ninja turtle?”
Bobby (26): “Well, obviously.”
Bobby (7): “Wanna play Power Rangers? I’m the Red Ranger!”
Bobby (26): “What? That’s ridiculous . . . I’m the Red Ranger.”
26 and 12
Bobby (26) : “Hey, twelve-year-old me! We finally got published!”
Bobby (12): “Yeah, sure. Hey, so you’re from the future then?”
Bobby (26) : “Obviously.”
Bobby (12): “So . . . wow, you’re tall.”
Bobby (26): “Very true. I know you’re shorter than all the girls right now, and pretty fat, and your haircut is . . . really, a ponytail? Anyway, it gets a lot better.”
Bobby (12): “We’re still fat, I see.”
Bobby (26): “Well, we get much thinner. Then after high school we get REALLY fat, but then we get thin again. Now we’re somewhere in the middle because – you know what? Listen. That’s not really what I’m here to talk about. I’m saying – ”
Bobby (12): “Quiet. Be honest with me. Have we touched a booby yet? Don’t bullshit me here.”
Bobby (26): “That’s not really important – ”
Bobby (12): “You shut your cow mouth. Boobies. Touched. Go.”
Bobby (26): “Little Bobby . . . ”
Bobby (12): “Remember how much I’m getting bullied right now? I will end you.”
Bobby (26): “Well . . . yeah. All the time. It’s pretty awesome.”
Bobby (12): “WoooooOOOOO!”
Bobby (26): “Sigh”
26 and 16
Bobby (26): “Hey, sixteen-year-old Bobby! We just got published!”
Bobby (16): “Um, how old are you?”
Bobby (26): “I’m . . . twenty six. I’m twenty six. Why?”
Bobby (16): “So, we got published like, again?”
Bobby (26): “What do you mean ‘again’?”
Bobby (16): “You published like, your ninth book, right?”
Bobby (26): “No, it’s the first one. I dont . . . ”
Bobby (16): “THE FIRST ONE? Are you HIGH?”
Bobby (26): “We don’t really get into drugs – ”
Bobby (16): “You, just now, ten years from now, publish your first book. Wow. Wow On a Pogo Stick. Were you kidnapped somewhere in the intervening years? Did you overcome a debilitating illness? Fight in a war?”
Bobby (26): “No, no, and no. It’s a slow process, dude.”
Bobby (16): “Most authors write a book in a year, right? How many books have been fully completed in ten years?”
Bobby (26): “Hold on. A book a year is pretty fast. And besides, you don’t start seriously writing for another four years.”
Bobby (16): “What? Why?! Oh, oh. College. Right. I guess that makes sense.”
Bobby (26): “Oh, uh . . . ”
Bobby (16): “What? Oh what now? You didn’t GO TO COLLEGE?!”
Bobby (26): “I went . . .”
Bobby (16): “Oh Jesus, man.”
Bobby (26): “So, to uh, answer your earlier question . . . two books.”
Bobby (16): “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore.”
Bobby (26): “I’m sorry, dude.”
Bobby (16): “You know what? Whatever. What’s the booby situation?”
Bobby (26): “Excellent, really.”
Bobby (16): “One out of three ain’t bad, I guess. We have a show tonight, wanna come? It’ll freak everyone out.”
Bobby (26): “Sure! I’ll jump and be like ‘I’m from the future, where the zombies are! Ahhhhh!'”
Bobby (16): “Ha, nice. There aren’t . . . ”
Bobby (26): “No, no zombies. But I’ve got some bad news for you about vampire movies . . . “