Writers totally make out on Valentine's Day!
Who started
that myth? It could have been a writer trying to get lucky but I doubt it. Writer's know there's no such thing as luck. Unless it's that hack blogger who just got a six-figure publishing deal.
He got lucky.
In love, there is only fantasy. Whether your fantasy comes in Princess Leah bikini gold or Fabio-licious oils, there are more than fifty shades to tell the tale, and every writer has lived enough heartache to fabricate them all.
Writers are students of the art of the heart, and great practitioners of the what not to do. That's why I'm so surprised to find people actually believe we've mastered the dark arts of "woo."
If I had to guess, (and lets face it, in must things love I'm always guessing) I'd say this misconception started with romantic poets, and was fueled by romance novelists. Probably even earlier than that, though, because ever since Shakespeare slammed some "You are" iamb into his flowery pentameter the writer's myth was writ.
The reality writer bachelor is a little more pathetic.
In school the writer never got the girl. He only wrote that story cuz something—
anything—had to be better than crying alone into his pillow. Writing down dreams felt good. It took his mind off the reality that Jock, his French roommate, was enjoying a Valentines date with the muse for whom our writer penned his dreams.
Ask any scribe and he'll tell you: all the women he's known ended up with the wrong guy—except the last one. She got it right.
For me that's my PirateQueen. She's the reason I take heart on Valentines, but is the homemade amateur movie as good as the book? If you're the lucky PriateQueen bagging a writer booty, is it everything you've read about?
Like I said, there is no such thing as luck. Fantasy and reality are never the same thing. For the rest of the week I'll look at love and writing. For today I'll leave you with this tease and tickle to tomorrow's promise and "book 2."
