Being famous

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A few weeks ago I was scheduled to perform with my dance troupe at a local summer festival, when suddenly I got an opportunity to go to a con and promote myself a little. Since young writers should take advantage of those opportunities whenever they pop up, I went to my troupe director to beg off the show. She was very kind, and told the rest of the ladies that I was going out of town to be “a star.” Yikes! Me, a star? I don’t think so.

Most of the time, published writers aren’t the kind of people who have paparazzi hanging around their yards hoping for a candid shot. Except for a rare few like James Patterson and Stephen King, who sell books in the kazillions, most writers have relative anonymity and a day job to pay the bills. This is not to say I wouldn’t love to be a bestseller, God knows. Drawing millions of readers (and the financial compensation that would come along with that) would be a marvelous thing. I just fear I’d be lousy at being famous.

Ten Reasons Misty Would Make A Terrible Famous Person

10. I drive a little too fast for the safety of the paparazzi on the sidewalks.
9. I like to do my own grocery shopping. And cooking. Oh hell, just hand me that spatula and get out of my kitchen.
8. Car trips longer than an hour transform me into something inhuman. A private jet would not make it any better.
7. I would drive my trusted lieutenant crazy sending her out to buy me Cherry Twizzlers and Starbucks coffee.
6. I don’t have famous-person hair, so I could never get a product endorsement deal.
5. I babble when I’m nervous, which can lead to dreadful verbal disasters.
4. If Ashton Kutcher ever decided to punk me, he’d end up with a broken nose. I don’t like practical jokes. (Really, don’t take this as a challenge, because we probably won’t be friends when you’re done.)
3. I never know what to wear. Having more clothes in the closet would just make the decision take longer.
2. The yes-men that come along with fame and fortune would be entertaining for the first twenty minutes. Then I’d start throwing things at them to make them go away, and end up on the cover of The Enquirer.
1. I have the tendency to declare myself queen of the planet, and demand that everyone do as I say. This is not to imply that I’m NOT the queen, just that usually I’m a beneficent tyrant.

Being rich would be fantastic. Being famous…not so much. Most people want to be Madonna. I think I’d rather be Garbo.

** Disclaimer – The entire previous post was all for sillies, and Misty will be happy to accept fame and fortune at any point the universe decides to bestow it. 😀

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8 comments to Being famous

  • I agree, the ‘being rich’ will be fantastic. And you could have a lovely selection of hats to take care of #6. 🙂

  • LOL. Misty that was too funny. 😀

  • I think I’d like to try out famous for a day or two to see if it’s all it’s cracked up to be. But I’m ready to commit to rich right now….

  • Misty, I started chuckling at #1 and still can’t see well enough to type for the laugh-tears. This was fabulous! I can’t even pick out my fav. I love all 10.

    And David, I totally agree.

  • Yeah, I’d rather be rich than famous, though famous might be fun to try on for a while. I can be kind of a ham at times, which was why I once (and still kinda do) thought of trying acting. But it almost seems like singers and actors are a different kind of famous. Barring shows like the new Castle, it seems like the fame of a writer is slightly less intense than that of the others. I don’t really hear about paparazzi taking compromising pics of Stephen King naked by his pool or any thing like that, or a headline that shows a writer in swimming trunks or a bathing suit with arrows pointing to the new batch of cellulite they now have.

    However, if the paparazzi want to run the risk of breaking their camera or sickening the general populace with my compromising pics I guess I won’t mind too much. 😉

  • I am reminded of the scene in Monty Python’s “Holy Grail” movie at the Castle Anthrax (yes we know it’s not a very good name):

    “You must depart! It is much too perilous here.”

    “I think I could do with a little peril.”

    I think I’d put up with paparazzi and Yes Men for a little Fame and Riches. My main fear would be letting it go to my head and forgetting what it was like to be poor.

  • Beatriz

    Misty, I could kick you for the rib cramps my demented laughing has produced!!

  • Chris Branch

    Regarding number 8: But the trip should take less than an hour in a private jet, right? Assuming you’re not changing planes in Atlanta or something… Anyway, I’d just bring a book or two and never notice whether I’m in a car, plane, or whatever.