Tonight I went out with a friend for a quick bite. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and was looking forward to catching up. Except…
I just sent a story off two days ago. Do you think I could think of a dang thing besides that to talk about?
Seriously, I’m horrible at small talk. It doesn’t matter if I care about the person (I did/do!) Once we get past “how’s it going?/Fine. How about you?/Oh, I’m fine” I’m pretty much done. I can’t talk about the weather because–well, Tucson. Hot. Sunny. Next.
Can’t talk about movies because I haven’t seen any. Can’t talk sports ’cause I don’t know. Can’t talk politics (much) because–well, have you SEEN what’s going on? Yeah, don’t get me started. TV, nope. Books I’ve read? Not at the moment. Books I’m writing?
How long have you got?
So yeah. I am, like many writers, not so good at the social skills. Which reminds me of this, which makes me feel better.
I <3 Neil Gaiman.