The Writer's Life

Hi diddle de dee, the writer’s life for me.
A high silk hat and a silver cane
A watch of gold and a diamond chain
It’s great to be a celebrity
The writer’s life for me.
(with apologies to Mr. Disney, Pinocchio and lyricist Ned Washington)

Well, maybe being a writer isn’t all that—the silk hat didn’t fit, the silver cane broke, the gold watch stopped, the diamond chain is actually cubic zirconium and the celebrity hasn’t quite arrived—but the writer’s life for me, regardless.

I’ve always thought that the perfect job consists of sleeping late, going to work in your pajamas, and doing something you love. Well, that’s writing. Oh sure, it’s hard work, and sometimes it can be disappointing, especially when no one recognizes your obvious blazing talent. Rejections, from agents and editors, can be hard to bear. Questions from family and friends along the lines of “When are you going to get a real job?” and “Why are you staring off into space all the time?” and “Don’t you think you’re getting a little old to be making up stories about witches?” can strike a sour note.

But for those of us who love it, we would not, could not ask for anything better that to be allowed and, with any luck, actually paid for writing down the tales that are always running through our minds anyway.

We love it. It’s what we do. And we don’t want to do anything else.

Of course, a diamond chain would be nice, come to think of it.