Longing For Simplicity

After my final class at the kickboxing studio I've been attending for the past couple of years, the head trainer stopped me to say goodbye and wish me luck in my future endeavors.  He asked where I was moving and what I was going to do there, and, wincing in anticipation of his follow-up question, I told him I was moving to Orcas Island to finish the book I've been writing.  And then, of course, he replied, "Oh, really?  What's your book about?"

Ugh.  I have grown to dread this question for two reasons:

1. I suck at talking about my writing, and
2. That's a very personal question, and I shouldn't have to answer it for any rando who happens to cross my path.

So I gave the trainer my "you're-a-stranger-who-has-no-right-to-ask-me-that-question" answer, which is:  "It's about laughing at human tragedy."  His response was simply to stare back at me in silence, blinking, which got awkward real quick, so I decided to offer him a longer, even crappier answer to that question.  When I finally blundered to the end of my rambling, incoherent explanation, the trainer informed me that he's also writing a book.  I asked what it's about, and he replied, "T'ai chi and qigong."

Oh, really?  How Zen of you.

Okay, consider me green with envy.  How I long for an answer like his!  T'ai chi and qigong?  Seriously?  What a marvelously simple response!  Why can't my book be about t'ai chi and qigong, or puppies, or World War II, or something else I could say in 5 seconds or less?

My current book topic issue is much like my employment situation has been for the past 15 years.  That pesky "What do you do?" question has plagued my existence due to the fact that I've never had a simple response, like, "I'm a dentist," or, "I'm a lone cowhand."  No, my answers have required multi-layered, complicated explanations involving social justice theory, federal funding issues, nonprofit business models, and brief lessons about foster care, mental illness, domestic violence statistics, and best practices for human behavior modification.  Whenever I found myself at some sort of gathering with my sister and someone asked us what we did for a living, my sister would say, "I'm a fourth grade teacher."  And then I would sigh, hand the person a large glass of wine and say, "Have a seat.  This is gonna take awhile."

What is particularly annoying is the knowledge that, for the most part, people only ask questions like "What's your book about?" and "What do you do?" to be polite, not out of any true desire to know the answers.  And yet, those questions historically have caused me to spiral into an abyss of frustration and anxiety.  Therefore, I think I might start lying.  That seems like a good self-preservation strategy.  When someone asks what my book is about, I'll just give the first, simple answer that pops into my head. 

"It's about dirt."
"It's about Pluto's fall to non-planet status."
"It's about six-toed cats."
"It's about a dentist who falls in love with a lone cowhand."

I think I need this book

At least now I have an easy answer to the question "What do you do?"  I can say, "I'm a novelist."  Except that simple answer will then lead to a series of complicated questions.  Hmmm.  Maybe I'll just say I'm unemployed.  That usually serves as a good a conversation killer.

Yes, just like LOL.  I hate you, LOL!