Could I be an author?

Lately, I’ve been kicking around the idea of whether I could write a book about the crazy things I’ve seen in customer service at the library. *I* think I’m funny, Nat thinks I’m funny, and my Dad thinks I’m funny. But is that really enough of a sample size to start such an ambitious project?

I checked out a couple books in the genre I’m going for to get the flavor of what’s already on tap: Waiter Rant, and Free for All; Oddballs, Freaks and Gangstas at the Public Library. The interesting thing is, both of these authors express doubt that they have the sort of life experiences and compelling voice to create a book. But then they did!

I certainly have a treasure trove! From sexual harassment by lecherous old men to medical emergencies to just plain crazy ladies who pull out their teeth and shake them at me, I have (God willing) seen it all. While mulling this over with some friends, they reminded me of a few instances that I had forgotten, and I’m sure a round or two of drinks could shake a few more out of my brain.

I might just fire up a Google doc and start making some notes. The one big thing I worry about is ensuring privacy. It might be enough to change the names of patrons, but how the heck do you talk about co-workers (in perhaps a less than flattering light) and people who are so unique that they could surely recognize themselves in the descriptions?! I could publish under a nom de plume, like “The Waiter”!

I’m putting this to simmer in my head and keep thinking about it.


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