Tuesday, December 16, 2008
They say writing is the most romantic of occupations. That is probably true once your work is popular and your next novel – or play or chapbook – is eagerly awaited by the public and generously sponsored with the application of a large advance against royalties.
The occupation is less romantic for the aspiring, the mid-list writer, or the bottom feeders like Frederick and Rachel. She does try, bl—curse her but she’ll never amount to much. She did write a graphically adult novel a couple of years ago – a sex-based murder mystery and a couple of people have encouraged her to market it under a pseudonym. It’s been well received by people who like a dash of fetish with their blood, but what market would take that on?
Still, at least she’s not starving. What’s a disability or two when you’re a writer? just don’t ask her for a critique of a story, because one of her faults is to be brutally honest, and not a lot of people can cope with that. She’ll cross out the angst and drama and tidy up the prose, leaving the piece concise and precise and the write curled up by the fridge in tears.
It’s for their own good.