The Satirical Stereotypes of a Writer

“Writing a novel is a terrible experience, during which the hair often falls out and the teeth decay.” ~ Flannery O’Connor

“Oh how glamorous,” People say.

“You will be the next J.K. Rowling!” They exclaim.

“It must be so nice to stay at home in your pajamas,” They wistfully stare at me.

Well excuse moi, while I let out a very unlady like snorted laugh.

Glamour? The only thing glamorous about being a writer, aside from trying every drink on the Starbucks menu, is how graciously we can take a no.

And another no.

And then another.

Writing is the epitome of speed dating. Filled with one rejection after another.

While it is great for the anti-social among us, myself included thus my constant pedestrian rage comments, it is also important to experience human contact. Thus few of us actually write in our pajamas. We actually do have to put on clothes, comb our bedhead and venture out into a cafe – because yes, that stereotype is a hundred percent true.

If we don’t, we will get sucked into what ever drama is happening on General Hospital. Watch the news and wonder if Fox took out an add at Barbie College for their news anchors. Or just end up binge watching Grey’s and Gilmore Girls, because well dealing with other peoples angsty characters, is a hell of a lot more appealing then our own.

Why oh why does our protagonist have to be so bloody annoying?

Another reason? Writers started the Taylor Swift, before Taylor Swift ever even THOUGHT about pulling a Taylor Swift.

Yes I know their is copyrights and it says that all characters are figment of the authors imagination.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Let’s be real for a moment. We don’t actually MEAN it. I might have changed the spelling of your name because I really do not want to be sued, but yes a-hole who cheated on me, that is YOU, in all of your Ken doll glory. And to my frenemy who only acts like my friend when you want something, you get prominence as the Regina George in my Rom-Com. Enjoy. And to my best friend from childhood. Yes you are the quirky best friend who will do anything for a friend well because you are the best.

Oh yes, authors T-Swifted people before her curly blonde head was even born.

The money. Nope sorry only J.K. Rowling is well J.K. Rowling. While I admit I go from adoring her, to cursing her name in three seconds flat, (I am a Gemini evil and sweet people) genius only strikes once in a millennia. Authors are not rolling in it (pun intended)  Many of us have second and third jobs. For many of us writing is our hobby. And for many of us it is just for the sheer purpose of walking into a bookstore taking a selfie with our book and posting it to Instagram.

If we are so lucky.

Other times it is posting a happy smile on our faces for our friends and cursing them behind their backs. Yes, we can be petty. We are writers after all.

And then there is the pimping. We are selling our souls. We are the devil himself. Take me please take me! I have thousands of followers on social media. MY book will sell. I will give you all my kidneys. And of course then our agents pimping us up to publishers. Vicious cycle peeps. It is a dirty, dirty world, publishing.

Actually moment of seriousness, this is very true. I know agents who refuse people based on social media status.  So I guess those two thousand “Friends” Really do count for something.

It isn’t glamour. It is grit. It is deadlines and hair pulling. Sleepless nights because our stupid muses decide to visit us at odd hours like some booty call.

It is editing and revisions over and over again, because publishers just do NOT like that ONE sentence. And after all of that. Oops sorry your baby – I mean book – has been shelved.

It is fighting to keep characters in, and realizing yes you do have to cut your favorite scene out.

It is an Olympic sport, albeit one that tests the brain and tricks the mind on countless levels. It makes the rational go crazy, filled with all the mental anguish of blood, sweat, and tears.

It is why, when it is all said and done writers truly are the bad-ass of the bad-assery.


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