I had just turned 28 and sold my first book, a travel guide for vegetarians, but I'd tell people about the day job that I didn't care about instead - I placed banner advertisements on the web for a search engine company.
I first became familiar with Dave Eggers's work when I was living in San Francisco and enrolled at USF's MFA Program.
Once the travel guide came out and won an award, once I got an MFA in creative writing, once I sold my next novel, I finally started telling people that I was a writer. I remember how special that year felt.
For everyone I know who is a writer, there was some awkward time in their lives when they had to learn to call themselves one.
I love Dave Eggers. I hate Dave Eggers. If I could become any other living writer, I would answer faster than anyone else in the room, 'Dave Eggers.'
I'm at my best when I'm being genuine and sincere, and reading my material straight up to an audience that wants to listen.
Whatever one thinks of Twitter, the Friday Reads hashtag is kind of a cool tradition.
Now Dave Eggers, if you lived in San Francisco, is not an easy person to be done with. Everyone - and by everyone, I mean every white person with a college education and an interest in books - wants a piece of him. It's not just his amazingly powerful prose; it's also his charitable works.
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