The Writer as Talker

Every once in a while I get invited to talk at various types of events. I don’t know exactly why, but whenever I finish my talk, I feel a mild sense of disgust at myself. Part of the problem is that one of the reasons I get invited in the first place is to talk about my books and about myself and so what I say sounds (at least to me) like so much ego-puffing and self-promotion. Professors and other scholarly types get to talk about a topic that doesn’t have anything to do with themselves. But what can I talk about other than writing and the writing process and the themes treated in my books? I feel like I should quickly become an expert and come up with a general topic such as: “Jung, the collective unconscious, and the prevalence of vampires in young adult literature.” Was there ever a time when an author wrote and the book went off and that was it? I’m only complaining a little bit. Because Marcelo has something like Asperger’s syndrome, I’ve been invited to speak to organizations that are interested or involved with AS. A week or so I spoke before the Asperger’s Association of New England and got some of very tough questions from young people with AS who had read the book with an incredible eye for detail. A couple of months ago, I was invited to a class at the Perkins School in Lancaster Massachusetts, where young people with AS had studied the book. I walk away from talks like these enriched. Drained but enriched. Sometimes I think that there’s only enough energy in the creative reservoir and you can use it either to write or to talk about writing. There are times when it feels right to talk about my writing and my books and there are times when it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe I haven’t quite found the perspective that sees talking as reaching out, as being generous, as an expression of gratitude for the publication and interest in my books. But even if I manage to see talking in the right light, I hope to always remember that writing comes first and talking second.