On the coffee table sat a copy of my first book.
在咖啡桌旁放着我以前写的一本畅销书。
I picked it up as well as the notes she had jotted down on her legal pad.
我拿起书，见到她粘在封面上的一张便条。
“Do you see this?” I said pointing to her notes.
“你看到这个了吗？”我指着她记的便条。
She looked down at her notes. “What?” she said, confused.
她低头去看自己的便条，“什么？”她困惑地说。
Again, I pointed deliberately to her notes.
我又指了指她的便条。

On her pad she had written: “Robert Kiyosaki, best-selling author.”
在便条上写着：“罗伯特·T．清崎，畅销书作家。”
“It says best-selling author, not best-writing author.”
“上面写的是畅销书作家，而不是最好的作家。”
Her eyes widened immediately.
她突然睁大了眼睛。
“I am a terrible writer. You are a great writer. I went to sales school.
“我只是一个平庸的作家，而你则是一位优秀的作家。我去了销售学校。
You have a master's degree. Put them together and you get a ‘best-selling author' and a ‘best-writing author.'”
而你得了硕士学位。如果你把这两方面结合起来，你就既是‘畅销书作家'，又是‘最好的作家'。”
Anger flared from her eyes. “I'll never stoop so low as to learn how to sell.
她的眼里燃起了怒火，“我永远不会委屈自己去学什么销售。
People like you have no business writing.
像你这样的人也不应该写作。
I am a professionally-trained writer and you are a salesman. It is not fair.”
我是受过专业训练的作家，而你以前不过是一个推销员，这不公平。”
The rest of her notes were put away and she hurried out through the large glass doors into the humid Singapore morning.
她收好其他的便条，然后匆匆穿过巨大的玻璃门，消失在新加坡潮湿的清晨里。
At least she gave me a fair and favorable write-up the next morning.
好在第二天早上她给了我一个公平、良好的访谈记录。