Three young women in the campsite office, where I dropped by to request for supplies for our cottage, met me with warm smiles. “Are you Ms. Grace Chong?” they asked.
Wow, you know who your guests are, I thought, delighted. Our group of 200 had about 10 speakers, including me.
“Are you a doctor?”
“No,” I replied, glad I wasn't mistaken for a patient.
“A pastor?” one guessed.
“No.” Maybe I look a little holy.
“No.” Maybe I have some of Cuevas' chutzpah.
“Well, partly . . .” I replied.
“And mostly . . .?” another pushed.
“Ooooh,” a chorus.
At this point I was sure one of them would say, “Yes, I've read one of your books!”
Instead, one asked, “What does an author like you do?”
My bubble burst.
When I came to, I rationalized that this campsite is at the end of the earth, a valley ensconced between mountains, and bookstores are miles away.
I scribbled my website on a sheet of paper and said, “If you have time, please visit this url and you'll find what I do." And I stressed before walking away, "Only if you find time."
“May we invite you to be a speaker in the staff camp we are planning for next month?” they called out.
Without knowing what I do? “I suggest you visit my blog first before you decide!” I beamed.
“But she said she is a part-time teacher, didn't she?" they might have asked each other.
People know exactly what doctors, pastors, lawyers, and teachers do. But an author?