My name is _____, and I am a writer.

My name is Melanie, and I am a writer. I hate telling people that. It's almost as bad as saying, My name is Melanie, and I majored in Religious Studies. Or, my name is Melanie, and I live in Rome, GA. I hate saying it because, unless they are from Rome, or majored in Religious Studies at UNC-Chapel Hill, or happen to be writers themselves, people look at me funny.

Okay, let's stick with writing. You get a few different responses.
1. Why, couldn't you find a job?
2. You must be an alcoholic.
3. I'm a writer too, but I've never published anything, and I have a handwritten 500 page manuscript for a novel that I'd like you to read tonight and then publish for me. How much money will I get?
4. I'm not a writer, but I have a great idea for a book, which you can write for me. How much money will I get?
5. If you're a writer, why haven't I heard of you? And why aren't you rich?
6. Do you write romance or mysteries or true crime?
7. My second cousin's step-daughter wants to be a writer. Can you give her some lessons (for free)?
8. You've published a book? Is it in the library?
9. You've published a book? I'd like to borrow it sometime.
10. What are you working on now?

The answer to #10 is tough because either I'm not writing (ohgodIdon'tknowdon'tknowwhyI'mtryingreallypleasebelieveme), or I'm still writing the same book I announced I was writing five years ago, and one wonders, naturally, what's the hold-up here?
Or...as in my present circumstance, I am working on publicity. Publicity is the opposite of writing.

My third novel, The Ghost of Milagro Creek, set in northern New Mexico, comes out with Algonquin on July 6. You can read about it, and my other books, stories, and essays on melanie-sumner.com. I'm doing a reading at The Georgia Center for the Book in Decatur on July 6 at 7:00pm, and a book signing at Barnes in Noble in Rome on July 10, 2:00-4:00. I'd love to see you there.

Enough about me --- what are you working on now?