It's odd. When you tell some people that you sold a book, they do some kind of crooked math, and somehow calculate that you are now idly rich and that you no longer have to work. Not all people do this, but a lot of people do.
I know this because of conversations I have had that go like this:
Well-wisher: I heard you sold your book to Paramount!
Me: Actually, I sold my book to Simon & Schuster. And I optioned it to Paramount.
WW: Dude... Who's starring?
Me: Um, I dunno. The book comes out in July.
WW: Are you just so stoked? I mean, what do you do all day?
Me: I, um, work and stuff.
WW: I thought you quit advertising
Me: I still freelance. (smiles)
WW: Why?
Me: I still have to eat. (smiles bigger, toothier)
WW: But I thought you sold your book to Paramount?
Part of this is due to the fact that getting a book deal is almost as improbable as winning the Powerball. Couple that with the fact that everyone wants to win the lottery and quit their
own day jobs, and you have people re-imagining your life as some kind of wealthy nap taker. It's actually kind of sweet that people wish that much good fortune on me.
But alas, until I hit the bestseller list, I will still be be doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Plus, freelancing in advertising is quite honestly a pretty sweet gig.
I guess I just wanted to let everyone know that writing is hard work—not hard work like cleaning out toilets at a movie theater when they are piled to the ceiling with poo, or laying sod that is crawling with angry fire ants. ( all past jobs I have held.) But writing is hard in its own way. I was up until 2:30 AM last night working. I do that a lot actually. I admit I am living my dream, but the writing life isn't what most people think. In fact, my life for about 12 hours everyday, looks just like this:

Now I have got to go.
I am about to be late for my Ayurvedic hot stone massage.
