It appears that all my friends and family have birthdays in the brief period from January 5th to January 12th. So, as a consequence of my ill-chosen friendships and family associations i have had little time to do anything other than celebrate birthdays and write embarrasingly predictable notes in cards. "You're 25!", went one. "When i was 20, we didn't have cards", went another.
So, apologies for the lack of blogging recently. My brother, sister and four friends have now been assigned new birthdates. Fear not, January 2011 will be clear for blogging. However, do not hope to see any hilarious blogging on May 5th,2010. I will have six birthdays to celebrate.
There's this weird expectation people have of you when you call yourself a writer, as i do, because Immigrant/Cancer Society volunteer provokes too many questions. As a writer, you're expected to be able to spell all manner of words on command. And it's not just spelling. If you, as a writer cannot define words such as "reqiuem" or "cronyism" you will be forever denounced as a fraud; a huckster, seeking to profit from a lie. There's also an expectation of creativity when it comes to cards. There's nothing quite as a sad as someone on Christmas eve slaving over a selection of "Happy Norwegian Christmas!" cards (due to my late card purchasing antics) trying to figure out something clever and heartfelt to write, so as to confirm their professional status.
This pressure exerts itself in other ways too i've found. A former girlfriend would insist that due to my self-announced title i should be able to make up a story with no preparation. "But aren't you a writer?" she would say as tears well up in her eyes; confused and tormented by my insistence that this supposed writer did not inherit this particular magic power from his writing forefathers.
I often wonder if this is true of other professions. Are watchmakers lambasted when they cannot answer automatically tell you the time? "What!? The sun is right there! Tell me now! Use your powers!".
For now, i am going to go wash my "i'm a writer" cape-fitted onesie and work on my storytelling abilities.
Anyone else been through something similiar due to their chosen profession?
So, apologies for the lack of blogging recently. My brother, sister and four friends have now been assigned new birthdates. Fear not, January 2011 will be clear for blogging. However, do not hope to see any hilarious blogging on May 5th,2010. I will have six birthdays to celebrate.
There's this weird expectation people have of you when you call yourself a writer, as i do, because Immigrant/Cancer Society volunteer provokes too many questions. As a writer, you're expected to be able to spell all manner of words on command. And it's not just spelling. If you, as a writer cannot define words such as "reqiuem" or "cronyism" you will be forever denounced as a fraud; a huckster, seeking to profit from a lie. There's also an expectation of creativity when it comes to cards. There's nothing quite as a sad as someone on Christmas eve slaving over a selection of "Happy Norwegian Christmas!" cards (due to my late card purchasing antics) trying to figure out something clever and heartfelt to write, so as to confirm their professional status.
This pressure exerts itself in other ways too i've found. A former girlfriend would insist that due to my self-announced title i should be able to make up a story with no preparation. "But aren't you a writer?" she would say as tears well up in her eyes; confused and tormented by my insistence that this supposed writer did not inherit this particular magic power from his writing forefathers.
I often wonder if this is true of other professions. Are watchmakers lambasted when they cannot answer automatically tell you the time? "What!? The sun is right there! Tell me now! Use your powers!".
For now, i am going to go wash my "i'm a writer" cape-fitted onesie and work on my storytelling abilities.
Anyone else been through something similiar due to their chosen profession?
7 comments:
Oh my god yes! I use the "Well, I work in a coffee shop, but I'm really supposed to be a writer."
"Oh, have you written anything lately?"
"No, not really."
We should go with the new title: Writer; Non Practicing.
Also, my brother's birthday is May 5 - good thing he isn't your friend.
Ah! That's a 7th person for the May 5th Birthday extravaganza! Also, Matt and i are best friends forever and we have matching tatoos to prove it.
Did your blog get a haircut or something? It looks different.
Also, the word verification for my last comment was "hoologi," Use it in a sentence. Go.
You are a supposed writer, and a damn poor storyteller. What happened to your epic tale about your trip north?
Sarah -
"It was a dark and stormy night on the hoologi."
Allison -
I know! It will be written shortly i assume. I'm not sure it relates to my poor storytelling abilities. More likely, my lazy nature is a factor. But i promise the rest will be written soon
Hollogi makes me think of Unagi.
Remember that episode of Friends? Unagi....Salmon Skin Roll.
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