In celebration of Friday the 13th, besides running under ladders, breaking mirrors, and causing general mayhem with black cats, here is a handy dandy list of why it's great to be a writer . . .
1. You don't have to dress up for the job. In fact, you don't even have to wear pants if you don't feel like it.
2. You get to rub shoulders with other authors . . . and if you're a freakish reader like me, that's a big deal. Yeah. Once again, my apologies to Frank Peretti for stalking you at the conference.
3. Research. It's a great tax write off. Dang. Did that just flag me for an audit?
4. Some people think you're pretty cool if you've got a book out. Most will think you're possibly psychotic, but not all, and that in and of itself is a good thing. Right? Anybody? Can I get an amen?
5. You get paid to make stuff up.
6. You get to read lots of great books before they're even published from all your writerly connections.
7. You can blame all your stupid mistakes on plot development. "Oh? I shouldn't have mixed bleach and vinegar? Well...I was trying out a new plot twist, you see."
8. You can kill off as many characters as you want, in brutally horrific ways even, and still you don't get slapped with a felony. Win, win.
9. You don't have to deal with stupid people. In fact, you don't have to deal with people at all.
10. Eavesdropping counts as working.
11. You can garner sweet revenge by making a character out of that certain someone in your life that annoys the bejeebers out of you. Or you could just kill him. Again, no felony.
12. You can make up words all in the name of fiction . . . which basically means that if you have a typo you can say you meant to do it.
13. People expect creative people to be eccentric and you can use that to your advantage.
I hear voices. Loud. Incessant. And very real. Which basically gives me
two options: choke back massive amounts of Prozac or write fiction. I chose the
latter. Way cheaper. I've been writing since I discovered blank wall space and
Crayolas. I seek to glorify God in all that I write...except for that graffiti
phase I went through as a teenager. Oops. Did I say that out loud?