Next time you encounter the more competitive friends you haven’t seen in awhile, and you notice that subtle, “she’s put on weight” look; the superiority and self-satisfied extra concern in their “how are you doing?” 

Remember what they can’t see is your manuscript.  The poem you wrote at 4 a.m. that exactly expresses your particular silence. 

 

If we could wear bumper stickers (but we can’t, so perhaps instead, a twinkle in the eye, a relaxation in the heart), I’d give these a try:

 

“My other car is a 400-page novel.”

 

Or, for the 80s crowd:

 

 “I’ve got words at home.”