After the lovely vibe that last little poem brought, it seems horrible to launch into a new week with a rant.
…but we’ll be ranting here anyway.
T. is recognizing that she is a somewhat more public figure than at previous times in her life, and that being more of a public person means occasionally getting interviewed. She actually hates being interviewed. Her inherent shyness, coupled with deep introversion combine to create a person who would much rather talk to people in handwritten letters (possibly written slowly and thoughtfully with ink and quill, and sent by Pony Express) than on the telephone, and she’d much rather swim laps in the English Channel or have her colon irrigated than talk about herself. And yet – this is all part of the package now, and she attempts to attend gracefully, with minimal internal screaming and snark.
(“Attempts” being the operative word. It is still excruciating, and probably always will be.)
Sometimes there are phone interviews, sometimes they’re given face to face, but most often these days there are email interviews.
Given the fact that many of the interviewers are people who a.) have no knowledge of who T. might be, b.) just got assigned this gig, and c.) don’t actually read young adult literature, she’s completely comfortable with filling them in on a few things, and sort of helping them understand who they’re interviewing and, hopefully, why. But the other day she got an email interview question “What are your books and what are they about?” from an interviewer, and had to sit on her hands to prevent herself from sending an Unfortunate Email.
What are your books? Really? That’s all you’ve got? Hon, LET ME GOOGLE THAT FOR YOU.
This interviewer made T. really, really angry. She hates being interviewed anyway, and by someone who doesn’t even do her the simple courtesy of looking up her name and knowing why he’s supposed to be interviewing her to begin with!? — Hello? This is the level of inquiry one could expect from a fifth grader trying to avoid reading a book to write a book report — just write and ask the author to outline the entire plot, because they have nothing better to do than do your work for you, right? This …person is alleged to be a college graduate — obviously disinterested in his subject matter, his interviewee, and sitting somewhere texting, picking his teeth, and expecting T. to prove to him that she’s worth his time.
Oh, NO, no, no.
T. sat and thought about flamethrowers and small hammers and Indiana Jones’ really long braided whip for awhile after getting this email.
And then she took a deep, deep breath…
and let it go.
He did? The nerve!! I think that is so adult, wise and good, and probably the right thing to do.(Where’s the angelic smiley?) I think I have a lot to learn, I couldn’t have resisted the urge to insert a tiny flick on the fingers 😈
…oddly enough I just got an email from my mother along the lines of “I’m humoring you, I know very well you didn’t just let it go.” So, obviously someone knows the angelic smiley is not appropriate… !
well… now I’m interested to read the interview!
Gee, me too. I mean, what’s it going to say?
Some woman who is also an alumni wrote a book or two for kids. I don’t know what age, and stuff, but she went to college here back in the dark ages. –Byline —
😯
How frustrating for T. I too would have been really livid.
I seem to be hearing more stories following these lines. Are people actually becoming lazier or are we just becoming more worldly and hearing more of them? Good for you for letting it go.
Hang in there T, there are more of them than there are of us.
Naw! Not to hard to google.
Paz