She looked at the screen. “Capital ‘W’ Writer?” she asked. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Hey, it’s my account. If you get on here, you can pick whatever you want.” I chuckled a bit.

“These people will think you’re some kind of geek!”

“Why not? I am one!” I smiled up at her. “And proud of it, too!”

“Okay,” she said. “Fine. I can’t argue with that.”

“See. I always said you’re smarted than I look.” I was having too much fun.

“Whatever. Okay, just explain to me – why?”

“Why what?” I asked her.

She grumbled. Maybe I was pushing her a bit. Well, chalk it up to latent masochism. “Why that.”

“Truth?”

“No, lie to me!” Okay, definitely pushing too far.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. It’s simple. I don’t want to be a small ‘w’ writer. Anyone can be a writer. I want to be a Writer. Capital ‘W’. I want people to read my stories and be inspired to write their own. I want to stimulate people’s imaginations. This will always remind me of that.”

“Oh,” she said. “Then it’s perfect.” She winked. “You capital ‘g’ Geek.”