|Dave Smith: Don't say|
I didn't warn you.
My old teacher, poet Dave Smith, (no relation to L.G.) sat me down and gave me similar advice many, many years ago, when I was planning to study for an MA in poetry writing (can you imagine any graduate degree less practical?) He said that even if I did eventually land a university job (after publishing two or three books, minimum), it was a long way off, and a crap shoot. And did I really want to do this?
|And this? Easy peasy.|
Writing is fun.
Being a writer makes me zip around some days with a feeling in the pit of my stomach that very much resembles falling madly in love. Writing never bores me. It expands me. It helps me understand people. And nature. And the universe. It makes me fear death a little bit less.
Somehow, I don't think writing is nearly as much of a bummer as, say, being a checker at Walmart. Or spending all day typing other people's letters or doing their laundry. I bet it's a lot less numbing than being a court reporter, and a lot less backbreaking than a career in farming. It's not as debilitating as running a small business or clawing your way up some soul-destroying corporate ladder.
Maybe it's just me? I like being a writer. If we're warning people off careers, let's start with this one: "You sure you want to do this? Because being a call-center operator is really hard."