Will Write For Money

Sure I'd love to write for a job.  I used to fantasize about being Dave Barry.  I don't mean I'd be a middle aged humor columnist working for the Miami Herald, just that I could write for money and make people laugh while doing it.  Besides, I hear Florida is just as hot and has bugs just as big as in Texas.  No thank you.

The problem is I don't think I'm very good.  I know I'm no good at fiction.  I don't know how to think for fictional characters.  I once wrote a fictional story that I never shared with anyone.  I thought it was hokey.  It was an X-Men story.  I created my own character and everyone eventually tangled with Magneto, a common occurrence in the comic books.  It was, to put it mildly, horrible.  But hey, at least I can honestly say I don't have a Star Trek fan script.

I once thought I could write about our family history.  It was going to be a collection of short stories from folks in my family, true events that I found interesting or funny.  It turned out to be a lot of work, too much research (I hate research) and none of seemed like it would be that interesting to people on the outside.  Like, to tell the story of why Mom had parked her car on the rail road tracks when pulled over by a cop, I'd first have to go into all this prologue of her abusive first husband, his family, blah, blah, boring, boring, boring.

When Mom told this story it was some thirty years after the event and we laughed over the fact that she had been dumbfounded to find herself parked on the rail road tracks.  I realized I didn't know how to put this on paper, this laughter between mother and daughter.  I gave up on the short lived project because I had no idea how to convey this laughter outside of verbal form.

And then the blog was born.  I became interested in the notion of making money but then found out how highly competitive it was and that by comparison, I wasn't really any good.  Anyone can be a writer.  Anyone can be a dancer or a singer but only a tiny margin, a select few actually make anything of it.  This is usually determined by luck of the draw or who you know.  Many of us know very few people in the entertainment business.  I came close once by getting bitched out by the local weather man at a Labor Day carnival.  I was unsure of where to park and he sat atop a horse and hollered at me.  It was dark and what lights were lit were confusing me.  So sorry, dude.

For now, what can I do with it besides hash out my feelings on stupidity?   For now, all I can continue to do is hash out dirty laundry and stick it out until something better comes along.  I seriously doubt I'll ever be Dave Barry.