Today I spoke with someone who is nearly famous. When I say nearly, I mean, he's not famous at all, but rather he has many more facebook friends and twitter followers than me - a lot more.
The boy from down the shore has been training me all summer not to name drop. It is difficult to tell stories when I'm in his presence, because he considers EVERYTHING name dropping. Like mentioning my friend Bryan, who is a professional poker player, or talking about my 4th of July out at the Hamptons, or how I ended up on a date with a billionaire.
Basically any story that might make me sound "cool" he doesn't want me to share. He calls me out in a teasing, playful manner and sometimes I ignore him, and other times I redirect my story to something else. He insists I shouldn't name drop in my book - not even about winning tickets to the Super Bowl, and how I may or may not have met Adam Sandler.
The problem is, I loooooove telling stories like this, and all the fabulous adventures I end up on and all the fascinating people I happen to meet. But the boy from down the shore (who doesn't share the same faith as me) has got me thinking. Why? What am I communicating when I share these types of stories - when I talk about skydiving in Santa Barbara and white water rafting down the Nile River and meeting up for drinks with my favorite author one month and an ambassador the next month.
It really does make me wonder if I'm overly into the life that I lead. I don't necessarily think it's bad to love life (it's a good thing, actually), but perhaps the guy from down the shore is right and I ought to use big stories and big names sparingly.
Hmm... but how does this work as a writer? Those are the stories people want to read. I'm stumped.
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