On Saturday, I was at the Tampa Bay Times Book Festival and in the signing line, a young boy came up to me and said, “Are you J.K. Rowling?”
I said, “Alas, I am not.”
He said, “Do you know who she is? She’s the person who wrote all the Harry Potter books.”
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
The boy sighed. He looked around. “What’s this line for anyway?” he said.
“Me, I guess.”
“What did you do?”
“I wrote some books,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “That’s pretty good.”
And it is pretty good, isn’t it?
I still can’t believe that I get to write books for a living.
Actually, it’s more than pretty good.
It’s pretty great.

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