The answer is I would love to write – or write funny (either one), and get a paycheck for it. A few days, ago, I responded to an employment ad for a humor writer, and was required to write “something funny” about why I was applying. Before you ask – no, I was not applying for Rob Petrie’s comedy writing gig on the old Dick Van Dyke Show, nor was it for Jimmy Fallon, SNL, or any other late night talk show. I think it was more marketing geared. Anyway, it’s not always easy to be funny “on demand.” So, I just wrote what I felt.
When a young person tells me she wants to be a writer, and asks my advice, my response is typically along these lines:
- Do you really enjoy eating regularly?
- Do you like the security of knowing when you flip that switch on the wall, that the light will come on?
If the answer is yes, then, go home and study hard at math. Become an engineer, computer nerd – anything but a writer!”
I have been writing almost all my life, and been paid (at least something for it) about half my life. Yet , there I was, mid-day on a Friday afternoon, typing out something in the NOTES app of my iPhone, to send to my computer and put in a word document – all in an effort to convince someone I did not know (and may never meet ), that I CAN WRITE. What kind of nut does that?
I’ll tell you – the kind of nut who, just last month, quit a job she held for 10 years, because she (finally) realized life is too short to live it as “Groundhog Day.” Actually, the new owner, reduced pay and hours iced that Groundhog Day cake. Nevertheless, they say “time flies when you’re having fun.” WRONG! Tempus fugit – period. Contrary to popular belief, the speed at which “time flies” is inversely proportional to the amount of fun one is having.
Therefore, my self-indulgent masochism insists on writing (while the electricity is still on, anyway).
Just a couple of weeks ago, a fellow writer (with a published book, no less), re-tweeted something I wrote. When I thanked him, he said, “I love all your writing. I just can’t ‘fave’ everything, or I’d look like a groupie.”
What? What? For cryin’ out loud, LOOK LIKE MY GROUPIE! For one thing, if you’re the only one re-tweeting and “faving” my stuff, you’re not really a groupie. You’re just a oney.
Finally, I tend to be like Chandler in “Friends.” Inevitably, I will make it through a job interview (at least) favorably.., and then say the most ridiculous thing, simply because I cannot end an interaction without some kind of punchline.
Rimshot – ba-dum-bum-CHING!(That signifies the end of this blog.) 😉
Now, for the proverbial “call to action:”
If you liked this piece, please click “Like,” leave a comment, “Follow” my blog, better yet, share the link with friends, family, or colleagues you think would enjoy it. It’s the only way a writer can gather an audience.
Thanks very much!