to see them all paying attention. Ryan cracked his knuckles. “Of the twenty-three kids in this room, I’d bet at least one of you is going to end up in a career that involves writing in some way, shape, or form... grant writing, journalism, technical writing, academia. Maybe we’ve even got a famous author among us?”
He looked around the classroom excitedly.
“So, just for today, let’s speculate. What’s being an author all about? What’s it like?”
“Uh, probably way easy.”
Ryan raised his brows at Mike’s quick response. “Alright, Mike. Elaborate. How is it way easy?”
“Cause writers make tons of money and can pay people to do pretty much everything for them.”
“How much money is ‘tons’ these days?”
Mike shrugged. “Like, at least millions. Probably billions. Isn’t the Harry Potter lady richer than the Queen?”
“So you’d write books that are Harry Potter popular, Mike?” Ryan rubbed his chin in thought.
“If you’re going to be a writer, why not write the best seller fiction type stuff?” Mike leaned back in his chair fairly confident in his deduction.
Ryan shook his head. “Okay, so you’ve written a few best sellers and now you’ve got... what, billions of dollars? Is that it? Just like that?”
“I’d get me one of those custom made sports cars. Only, like, a lot of them.” Jackson added, nodding in approval. “Plus, there’d be all that fat cash from the movie deal.” He made sure to pretend like he was throwing out dollar bills in the air.
The rest of the class approved of his antics by erupting in laughter.
Ryan waited for the laughter to die down. “Do any of you know how many books are published every year?” He scanned their faces. The discussion of the glamorous life of a famous author seemed to have energized them, but now they looked unsure. Ryan knew authors, and he knew it wasn’t all glamour with celebrities and throwing money everywhere. In fact, a degree of introversion was popular among writers.
“Like... five hundred?” a student offered.
Most of the class groaned at the ridiculously low guess. Ryan struggled to keep the grin from his face. He didn’t want to make the kid feel bad just when he started to join the conversation.
“Good guess, but not quite. There’s anywhere from 250,000 to half a million or more books published every year. In the United States alone. Worldwide, the number is easily in the millions. Now, how many living, publishing authors can you name?”
The punk girl blinked, chewing her lip. “Uh…like, maybe ten. More, if you gave me time to think about it.”
“Ten’s a pretty decent number. Let’s say, for arguments sake, we can each name ten different authors. That’s 250 working authors... out of a quarter million.” He leaned back in his chair, letting the numbers sink in.
Jackson raised his hand in the air, but didn’t wait for Ryan to call on him. “Come on, Mr. McC. If being a bestselling author was that hard, hacks like Sam Cavell and that 50 Shades chick wouldn’t be at the top of the charts.”
The mention of Sam Cavell made Ryan tense. He clenched his jaw around the immediate defense that sprang to his lips. Sam is no hack!
“Oh my god,” Celia, thankfully, jumped in with a squeal. “Have you even read Firebrand? It is seriously, the greatest book ever.”
“Those books can’t be that hard to write,” the incredulous student intoned sagely. “Chicks dig that kinky sex stuff.”
“You’d have to have had sex with a girl before, though, so that leaves you out.” Jackson threw a pen at his buddy. “I bet Cavell gets tons of tail,” he added, rubbing his shoulder from the impact.
“Seriously,” Celia added with a snort. “Have you seen him? Total. Hottie.” She enunciated the words to stress her point.
Ryan frowned at the kids, his voice harsh. “That’s enough.” Aside from getting off topic, he wasn’t comfortable talking about Sam. Only a few people at the school
He looked around the classroom excitedly.
“So, just for today, let’s speculate. What’s being an author all about? What’s it like?”
“Uh, probably way easy.”
Ryan raised his brows at Mike’s quick response. “Alright, Mike. Elaborate. How is it way easy?”
“Cause writers make tons of money and can pay people to do pretty much everything for them.”
“How much money is ‘tons’ these days?”
Mike shrugged. “Like, at least millions. Probably billions. Isn’t the Harry Potter lady richer than the Queen?”
“So you’d write books that are Harry Potter popular, Mike?” Ryan rubbed his chin in thought.
“If you’re going to be a writer, why not write the best seller fiction type stuff?” Mike leaned back in his chair fairly confident in his deduction.
Ryan shook his head. “Okay, so you’ve written a few best sellers and now you’ve got... what, billions of dollars? Is that it? Just like that?”
“I’d get me one of those custom made sports cars. Only, like, a lot of them.” Jackson added, nodding in approval. “Plus, there’d be all that fat cash from the movie deal.” He made sure to pretend like he was throwing out dollar bills in the air.
The rest of the class approved of his antics by erupting in laughter.
Ryan waited for the laughter to die down. “Do any of you know how many books are published every year?” He scanned their faces. The discussion of the glamorous life of a famous author seemed to have energized them, but now they looked unsure. Ryan knew authors, and he knew it wasn’t all glamour with celebrities and throwing money everywhere. In fact, a degree of introversion was popular among writers.
“Like... five hundred?” a student offered.
Most of the class groaned at the ridiculously low guess. Ryan struggled to keep the grin from his face. He didn’t want to make the kid feel bad just when he started to join the conversation.
“Good guess, but not quite. There’s anywhere from 250,000 to half a million or more books published every year. In the United States alone. Worldwide, the number is easily in the millions. Now, how many living, publishing authors can you name?”
The punk girl blinked, chewing her lip. “Uh…like, maybe ten. More, if you gave me time to think about it.”
“Ten’s a pretty decent number. Let’s say, for arguments sake, we can each name ten different authors. That’s 250 working authors... out of a quarter million.” He leaned back in his chair, letting the numbers sink in.
Jackson raised his hand in the air, but didn’t wait for Ryan to call on him. “Come on, Mr. McC. If being a bestselling author was that hard, hacks like Sam Cavell and that 50 Shades chick wouldn’t be at the top of the charts.”
The mention of Sam Cavell made Ryan tense. He clenched his jaw around the immediate defense that sprang to his lips. Sam is no hack!
“Oh my god,” Celia, thankfully, jumped in with a squeal. “Have you even read Firebrand? It is seriously, the greatest book ever.”
“Those books can’t be that hard to write,” the incredulous student intoned sagely. “Chicks dig that kinky sex stuff.”
“You’d have to have had sex with a girl before, though, so that leaves you out.” Jackson threw a pen at his buddy. “I bet Cavell gets tons of tail,” he added, rubbing his shoulder from the impact.
“Seriously,” Celia added with a snort. “Have you seen him? Total. Hottie.” She enunciated the words to stress her point.
Ryan frowned at the kids, his voice harsh. “That’s enough.” Aside from getting off topic, he wasn’t comfortable talking about Sam. Only a few people at the school
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