Coolness Personified

Why, in the name of all things holy, are writer's so effing cool?

That less than revolutionary thought occurred to me today as I was sitting in a cramped room in the Letterman building listening to published authors read their works. The room was overstuffed with vegan, bracelet wearing, non-conformists in Chuck Taylors. The smell of narcissism polluted the air. I imagine it to be quite similar to the ambiguous scent of broccoli, because after all we are all too high-brow to actually manufacture sweat. Is this an image we, as writer's or artists, try to project? Or, are we simply, by our own standards this bad ass?

I like to think of it as a combination of both.

How the hell do you picture a writer? Hunched over a Mac in a Starbucks, hammering letters into flurries of life changing words? Maybe writers are defined by the genre they prefer--like the ever glamorous world of smut romance (or as my grandmother once said, "the books with those women that look like they could use half my sense, and the pannies I wore today.")? I like to think of these women as scorned housewives writing by the light of their clunking dryers. Regardless, writers have to be a bit off kilter. It's kind of like a selling point for them. If you're a perfectly sane person with an average life, who wants to hear what you have to say?

But really. I mean REALLY? It's not at all like there are guidelines to acting like a writer. You know,
Step 1: buy clothes at good will.
Step 2: eat things that never had a mother.
Step 3: listen to bands that are "tortured," or anything from the sixties (or the sexties...once again, thanks grandma).
Step 4: enjoy Kafka.
Step 5: drink soy milk and espresso...never together of course.

This is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard. That is why I really respect people who are genuinely screwed up. That probably sounds a lot more terrible to you than I meant but here comes the explanation...I love writers who can admit to their narcissism. I love writers that appreciate the English language so much that they give it a break and use words like cool and dick. I love writers that smell like Trader Joe's (even though I scorn vegans and vegetarians). I love writers that are lazy and disorganized. I love writers that actually have to shop at Good Will because they are "honing their craft." And the list goes on.

Writing is similar to the art of going to the bathroom...you work at it, you grunt a little and then you really have something. I couldn't imagine my life any other way, and even though I poke fun at them, I truly love every struggling writer in battered sneakers as much as the ones that wear space boots.

We are all on a journey together whether we know it or not. In the end, the road may lead to fame and fortune (fingers crossed), but it could also lead to self discovery. Which, I think is infinitely more important.

P.S. To all those who are brave enough to not eat animals or their by-products: I respect you more than you know. In fact, barring a discussion with the psychiatrist I don't have but desperately need, let's call my "scorn" a facade for despairing envy.