The Golden Willow (2009)
The Golden Willow
“In the post office, however, I was something of a celebrity. The clerk who waited on me the first time I came there to send the book out, a tall, curly-haired fellow with a cheerful manner, asked what the package contained in order to determine the cost of shipping, and when I told him it was a book I had written, his eyes widened.
“Are you a writer?” he asked.
I nodded. I was a writer, wasn't I?
“Wow!” he said. “I've never met a writer before. I always wanted to be a writer.”
I had met others ...like him before, people who wanted to be writers but somehow never got around to writing. The postal business was forgotten as we chatted away, with a line of customers waiting impatiently behind me. He told me about himself. He'd been a post office clerk for fifteen years. He was married. He had four children. He'd always sworn he'd quit his job and just write. But he'd stuck it out, and here he was, liking his work really, liking the customers and being liked by them, and not suffering too much from unrequited ambition.MoreLess
“Are you a writer?” he asked.
I nodded. I was a writer, wasn't I?
“Wow!” he said. “I've never met a writer before. I always wanted to be a writer.”
I had met others ...like him before, people who wanted to be writers but somehow never got around to writing. The postal business was forgotten as we chatted away, with a line of customers waiting impatiently behind me. He told me about himself. He'd been a post office clerk for fifteen years. He was married. He had four children. He'd always sworn he'd quit his job and just write. But he'd stuck it out, and here he was, liking his work really, liking the customers and being liked by them, and not suffering too much from unrequited ambition.MoreLess
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