This happened a while ago, but I wanted to share it. Partly because I don’t want to forget it, and partly because this blog could use some funny.

A while back I was sitting outside at Starbucks writing. I do this almost every day, and in the course of my outdoor working adventures, I’ve had lots of people come up and talk to me.

(What it is about a woman sitting alone, completely absorbed in her work, that invites other people to come chat? The resting bitch face? The glazed-over eyes? The furious typing?)

Anyway, on this particular day, an older man comes scooting up  and asks what I’m working on.

Me: Oh, I’m a writer. I’m working on a book. 

Him: What do you write? 

Me: Fantasy

Him (wide-eyed): Like… like Playboy? 

Me: … 

Me: Um… no. Fantasy, as in … like… dragons and stuff. 

Him (nodding knowingly): Oh! Like nature!

Me: …

Me (sighing internally): … Yes. Like nature.

So there you have it, folks. What I do is important. It’s educational. Look out, David Attenborough.

Really, though, I’m delighted that so many people equate the word fantasy with erotica. Can we start teaching genre fiction in schools? Pretty please?