No, its not that kind of book

I never had the courage to write a book when I was young. I had no problem writing lots of really horrible poetry and forcing people to listen to me read it. I wrote a lot of short stories, and I wrote a whole lot of stuff for my school papers. I really thought I was something, but I was too much of a coward to write an actual book.
No more.
I finished my first book about two months ago. So now I can cross that off of my list of things I should have done when I was younger list. Now, don't get your hopes up. It is not the Great American Novel. It is a coming of age story I wrote for 14 year olds. It is kind of a niche market. But I started writing this book without thinking I would ever finish it, and I did. So now I am desperately trying to find an agent so I can sell it.
The weird thing is not that I wrote a book, but how everyone has reacted about it. I have a fantastic writer friend who I made while I was writing this book. She has been helpful, supportive and a fantastic resource because not only has she written a book, but she now has an agent and her book is about to be published. So when I tell my mother I wrote a book, her first instinct is, "Because your friend wrote one, you decided to write one too?"
Now granted, I am not saying I am the most Independent thinker, I mean I wore jellies because all the other girls had them, but maybe my mom could have given me a little more credit.
Unfortunately that has been the opinion of every family member that I have told, with the exception of my sister who said, "Oh," and went back to telling me about the funny thing her boyfriend just texted her. Did I mention she was the book's inspiration? Yeah, its a comedy.
My favorite conversation about my book has been with my great aunt. She has always been really supportive of my education and used to clip my news articles from the paper. This aunt has also always loved the fact that I am a big craft geek and will spend hours talking to her about knitting, crochet and quilting. My mother was so proud I wrote a book in my poor poor aunts lifetime because "she will be so proud."
(This is the actual conversation with my aunt)
Aunt - What have you been making lately?
Me - Not much. I haven't had a lot of time. Well, actually I have made something. I made a book. I wrote a book.
Aunt - A craft book?
Me - No. Its a. . . story book.
Aunt - Oh, (smiling) a children's book.
Me - No. It is for adults. You see, a friend of mine has written a boo. . .
Aunt - And you had to write one, too.
Me - No, I actually started writing it and then we became friends and started working on our books together.
Aunt - Oh.
And then the conversation became something compeletely different, and she started describing this scrap fabric she will most likely leave me after her passing in hopes that I can, "make something out of it."
I'm not really sure why I expected anything different from my family. When I was 10 years old, I told my grandmother I wanted to be a writer. She bought me a calligraphy set.