I tell myself that all bookish people do this. I’m sure most of us do, to an extent. But then there are the little fictions, slightly outlandish wishes, around books that we wish we could make come true. We do all do this, too, right? Maybe that’s just another fantasy of mine. Here are my three best bookish wishes, ranked in order of how embarrassing I find them now. Bookstore Meet-Cute Famous Writer, Appearing on Late-Night TV Not long after I realized I was a terrible singer, but shortly before I stopped trying to write an eleven-year-old’s version of Sheryl Crow’s debut Tuesday Night Music Club (I mean, knew SO MUCH about bars then, didn’t you?), I decided I was obviously destined to become a famous writer. By my very early teens, I was so enmeshed in this fantasy that I devoted many a journal section to practicing being interviewed by Rolling Stone. Questions about my style, my inspirations, my life both as a prodigy (sickeningly famous by 16) and as someone who hit it big post-college and used a lot of expensive-sounding words. Did I mention I was famous for my poetry? Which I’d made a spoken-word album of, which got me lined up in the musical-guest slot on late-night TV. Again, this was the ‘90s, so that entailed going on Jay Leno and David Letterman, getting my makeup done by Kevyn Aucoin (RIP), and wearing expensive leather skirts with ratty babydoll tees. Now, I’d have to fantasize about Lip Sync Battle-ing some Ani DiFranco and playing Box of Lies with Jimmy Fallon. Neither of those sounds bad. First up: become a disgustingly famous writer and spoken-word album making poet. The Long-Lost Twin Okay. Share yours. Embarrass yourself a little bit to make me feel better, I beg you.
