Guess Who’s Writing Books?
We were seated near a group of gray-beards in our local Ihop. Stray words spoken less than two feet from my ear penetrated the pauses in my own conversation. “…replaced the ball on top of the femur…we all rode the same bikes…a really smooth ride…two thousand miles…”
Then a phrase did more than float past. “I’m a real grammar nazi.” What? A biker grammar nazi? The phrase resonated with me. Then I heard more. “His publisher…formatting…print on demand…Look at this one—a typical writer workshop…" This was my kind of talk.
I reached in my purse and handed my card to the man sitting behind me, using the “grammar nazi” phrase as my excuse.
“She’s a publisher,” said the man with my card. A couple more held out their hands, and I passed cards around. The one who’d identified himself as the grammar nazi pointed a camera at me, and we all had a moment of laughter at the amazing coincidences of life.
“I also give writer workshops,” I added.
The man nearest me was still holding my card at eye level. “Rider workshops. R-I-D-E-R workshops.” Oops. I grinned at my eavesdropping mistake.
Who knows? I may get an amazing manuscript about biking across America, but even if I don’t, it was a great moment of random connections.