How do I know you’re not crazy?” she asks. “How do I know you’re not the craziest dude I’ve ever met?” “You’ll have to test me out.” “You have my info,” she says. “I’ll think about it.” “Rain,” I say. “That’s not your real name.” “Does it matter?” “Well, it makes me wonder what else isn’t real.” “That’s because you’re a writer,” she says. “That’s because you make things up for a living.” “And?” “And”– she shrugs–“I’ve noticed that writers tend to worry about things like that.
How do I know you’re not crazy?” she asks. “How do I know you’re not the craziest dude I’ve ever met?” “You’ll have to test me out.” “You have my info,” she says. “I’ll think about it.” “Rain,” I say. “That’s not your real name.” “Does it matter?” “Well, it makes me wonder what else isn’t real.” “That’s because you’re a writer,” she says. “That’s because you make things up for a living.” “And?” “And”– she shrugs–“I’ve noticed that writers tend to worry about things like that.
