As Jane Sibbery said in song.
I’ll admit I don’t like many of them. Sorry if you’re a writer and think of me as your friend. But you I like. It’s the other people. You know what I’m talking about. The kind of writer who tells you his tales of all the fantastic books, boundary breaking scripts and titillating limericks they’re going to write.
The truth is most writers I’ve come across are vain, petty, self-involved, egotistical, back-stabbing, low self-esteem having twits. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It only means I know you.
I had a writer/friend who found out about a job that was dead center in my wheel-house. It’s like the job was tailored around my peculiar abilities. After it had been filled I found out he knew about it long before. He’d even seen me many times before the position was off the table. I asked him why he failed to mention it to me. His response was,
“If I couldn’t get it I wasn’t going to let you get it.”
This from a guy who used me as a reference on many occasions.
It’s not as if he had a shot at the work. We’re totally different types of writers. I’m good and he’s a plebian hack. Just kidding, we’re in two totally different disciplines. I write every day and he talks about writing every day. No, I’m just kidding again. He would never have been considered for the position due to his lack of experience in the genre. It’s like me and science fiction. It’s not a genre I have the vocabulary for.
But if I heard about a job and knew someone who could do it, damn straight I’d pass the lead along. I lose nothing and may help out a writer/friend.
An odd thing about talking to writers is the conversation. I don’t know if everyone gets this but I get these exercises. Off the wall scenarios. Like the other day when a writer/friend asked me to riff on,
“What do you think your obituary will say?”
Who asks things like that? I’m assuming less a writer/friend than a potential murderer/friend. But I sometimes have the time to go down these jagged paths. So I do. What have I got to lose? One less writer/friend? A win/win.
“I know exactly what my obit will say because I’ll be the one to write it. It’ll be the largest readership I’d ever have because people have been waiting so long for it.” Then I start.
Chris Zell is dead so please, pay off your wagers. He did many things in his life we won’t go into because we’re paying for this by the word. Isn’t that odd? Usually he was getting paid by the word. There won’t be a service because he knows you’re busy. Why fuck up a perfectly productive day just to stand around saying, “I think he still owes me twenty bucks.”?
He had his good faults and his bad. He tried to be a good friend but that’s not a decision he could make. He did feel he had many friends. And he loved them. He tried to be a good boyfriend but with a skill set that mainly consisted of being able to hit balls and break them you can see how trying he could be.
Instead of a service he’s asking you to go to a comedy club, listen to some stand-up, watch a funny movie, tickle yourself, it’s your choice. Do something that makes you laugh. In lieu of a donation to whatever killed him (it killed him for fucks sake! That would be like Roman Polanski putting $20 a week in Manson’s canteen) buy yourself a drink, get yourself a meal, go out and do something, again, your choice. If you can, make it something you did with Chris. It’ll be like he’s there but it’ll be cheaper because this time you won’t have to pick up his bill.