Writing is difficult without a doubt. It’s like self-imposed solitary confinement. You have to be mentally tough (or insane) to endure the long hours wandering around in your own mind.
But there are benefits to the writing life. And I would like to share some here today.
- Hygiene is optional. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it is okay to go several days without a shower, unless you want your wife to yell at you. But it is nice to know there is an option. Let’s face it, the computer doesn’t care if you shave your face or if the hair on the back of your head looks like JFK in Dallas (Oh, sorry. Too soon?). The only thing that matters is words on the page.
- Talking out loud to yourself is acceptable. All those stares in Target or Shop Rite are just because strangers don’t know that I write. If they knew I was creating dialogue between characters for my story then they wouldn’t back away from me on line so quickly. My kids used to laugh at me, too, because I would wander around the house talking out loud to nobody in particular. But now they understand. They still laugh but what the hell do kids know?
- Built-in excuse to miss any event. I’m not saying I have used this one, at least that you know of, but it can be convenient to throw a, “Honey, I really can’t go dancing this weekend because I am up against a deadline” excuse. Even cooler is that I create my own deadlines so…you know…
- Fans = Fun. Having fans is pretty neat. Some send you suspicious packages. Others send you encouraging emails or mention you on social media. But it is nice to know that somebody out there likes you for something other than the fact that you are pretty or that you are related to them. I just have to build some more fans so I can get better seating at my favorite restaurant. There’s only so many times I can hint to the hostess that I am famous. Don’t laugh. I’m on the internet.
- Easy motivation to workout. I am the healthiest I have been in years because writing allows me freedom in my schedule for important things like exercise. And I don’t walk all those miles six times per week as a lame tactic in procrastination. No, no, no. It is just an added benefit to the writing life.
So next time you catch me walking in town with bed-head while talking to myself, be sure to stop me and ask for an autograph. The stack of glossy 8x10s are getting heavy.