THE TRAGIC LOT OF THE CREATIVE TYPE: Part 2
Get a load outta this latest bullshit I suffered through tonight:
I'm talking to this guy I know (who shall remain nameless); he asks me what I'm up to and I tell him I'm writing a Zombie Novel called DEATHBREED. He starts ripping on it, rolling his eyes and cracking this stupid grin as if he's being very clever by tearing me down. He's never seen a zombie movie, never read a horror novel and yet he knows all about it!
I try to explain that it's not about zombies, it's about people and how they react to the fact that the world is ending. That answer seems intelligent enough to him, so he says, "Oh," and waits a couple seconds before switching tactics. I can see he's got another great avenue of attack thought up by the braindead look on his face. Sure enough, I'm right...
He asks me, "Why don't you write the DaVinci Code instead?"
I answer, "Because it's already been written."
He says, "Yeah, but you should write something like it; you know--a bestseller!"
At this point, I'm ready to punch him in the nose, but instead I patiently tell him, "Look; this is my first novel. The chances of it ever becoming a New York Times bestseller are pretty much zero. But it might do okay under the right circumstances, and it could open a few doors. The worst case scenario is that it's a learning experience for the next book; plus, it's something I've always wanted to do."
He thinks about this for a second, then comes back with, "Yeah, but have you ever read the DaVinci Code?"
After visualizing pounding this fucker's head into a brick wall until he spits teeth like sunflower seeds, I reply, "No..."
He says, "Well, you should. That's a real book! I bought it at Costco."
Okay... I'll make a note of it. Let's see: First, I should write a book that's already been written; second, I must "magically" make it a bestseller (maybe I could "magically" find enough money to buy up the entire print run or bribe somebody at the NY Times?); and third, I should make sure Costco sells it. Got it. That's good advice; he should start charging for it! LOL
You ever notice how people who don't know shit are the first ones to offer advice when they should just sit back, chill out and pour themselves a nice, tall glass of shut the fuck up? These know-it-all fucks will NEVER do a goddamn creative thing in their lives but somehow, they've gained the wisdom to advise me on how to write a "bestselling" book, or make a "blockbuster" film, or even how to wipe my ass the "right" way. Now, if Steven Spielberg or Stephen King wanted to call me up and give me free career advice, I'd be happy to listen, LOL, but this DaVinci dimwit? Forget it!
I'm just not going to talk to "normals" about my novel or anything else creative I do anymore. They're too fucking stupid to "get" it and too jealous to do anything but try to tear me down. No success is ever good enough for them; no job is a "real job" unless you're pushing a broom and taking orders from people you hate. It would be funny if it wasn't so painful, LOL.
Maybe you're wondering how this conversation I was having with the "font of all wisdom" ended. Well, after showing me a newspaper clipping and telling me I should buy an eBay store franchise like the lady in the article, he complained his TV wouldn't turn on. He asked me to fix his giant plasma screen so he can watch The West Wing, American Idol and ice skating contests (TMI, dude!). I check the remote's batteries, and find that they're okay. Next, I unplug his TV, then plug it into a different outlet. Poof! Fixed like magic.
He says, "Wow! Maybe you should be a TV repairman instead of a writer."
Hmm... Yeah, and maybe I should kick you in the nuts, jackass!
He's probably still sitting there, breathing out his mouth and watching people on TV try and make something out of themselves, wondering why his own life passed him by... LOL!
PS: I have nothing against Dan Brown or The DaVinci Code. I may even get around to reading it someday... after all the obnoxious hype wears off.
I'm talking to this guy I know (who shall remain nameless); he asks me what I'm up to and I tell him I'm writing a Zombie Novel called DEATHBREED. He starts ripping on it, rolling his eyes and cracking this stupid grin as if he's being very clever by tearing me down. He's never seen a zombie movie, never read a horror novel and yet he knows all about it!
I try to explain that it's not about zombies, it's about people and how they react to the fact that the world is ending. That answer seems intelligent enough to him, so he says, "Oh," and waits a couple seconds before switching tactics. I can see he's got another great avenue of attack thought up by the braindead look on his face. Sure enough, I'm right...
He asks me, "Why don't you write the DaVinci Code instead?"
I answer, "Because it's already been written."
He says, "Yeah, but you should write something like it; you know--a bestseller!"
At this point, I'm ready to punch him in the nose, but instead I patiently tell him, "Look; this is my first novel. The chances of it ever becoming a New York Times bestseller are pretty much zero. But it might do okay under the right circumstances, and it could open a few doors. The worst case scenario is that it's a learning experience for the next book; plus, it's something I've always wanted to do."
He thinks about this for a second, then comes back with, "Yeah, but have you ever read the DaVinci Code?"
After visualizing pounding this fucker's head into a brick wall until he spits teeth like sunflower seeds, I reply, "No..."
He says, "Well, you should. That's a real book! I bought it at Costco."
Okay... I'll make a note of it. Let's see: First, I should write a book that's already been written; second, I must "magically" make it a bestseller (maybe I could "magically" find enough money to buy up the entire print run or bribe somebody at the NY Times?); and third, I should make sure Costco sells it. Got it. That's good advice; he should start charging for it! LOL
You ever notice how people who don't know shit are the first ones to offer advice when they should just sit back, chill out and pour themselves a nice, tall glass of shut the fuck up? These know-it-all fucks will NEVER do a goddamn creative thing in their lives but somehow, they've gained the wisdom to advise me on how to write a "bestselling" book, or make a "blockbuster" film, or even how to wipe my ass the "right" way. Now, if Steven Spielberg or Stephen King wanted to call me up and give me free career advice, I'd be happy to listen, LOL, but this DaVinci dimwit? Forget it!
I'm just not going to talk to "normals" about my novel or anything else creative I do anymore. They're too fucking stupid to "get" it and too jealous to do anything but try to tear me down. No success is ever good enough for them; no job is a "real job" unless you're pushing a broom and taking orders from people you hate. It would be funny if it wasn't so painful, LOL.
Maybe you're wondering how this conversation I was having with the "font of all wisdom" ended. Well, after showing me a newspaper clipping and telling me I should buy an eBay store franchise like the lady in the article, he complained his TV wouldn't turn on. He asked me to fix his giant plasma screen so he can watch The West Wing, American Idol and ice skating contests (TMI, dude!). I check the remote's batteries, and find that they're okay. Next, I unplug his TV, then plug it into a different outlet. Poof! Fixed like magic.
He says, "Wow! Maybe you should be a TV repairman instead of a writer."
Hmm... Yeah, and maybe I should kick you in the nuts, jackass!
He's probably still sitting there, breathing out his mouth and watching people on TV try and make something out of themselves, wondering why his own life passed him by... LOL!
PS: I have nothing against Dan Brown or The DaVinci Code. I may even get around to reading it someday... after all the obnoxious hype wears off.
posted by Todd Tjersland at 11:53 PM
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