Should You Date a Writer?

Probably not.

What, you want more? Fine, then. This is just my take on it, many others would disagree. They’d be wrong, but that’s their right.

When I was a teenager some time during the last century, teen magazines were full of ‘advice’ on how to know if he’s the one for you. Many of these pieces of wisdom referenced star signs. These stories were invariably printed in white on a dark blue background, with hearts, stars, and comets decorating the page. The height of sophistication it wasn’t.

Others went a little deeper. They promised to reveal the sort of boy you liked based on his record collection. Yes, we played records in those far-flung days of yore. If he liked the Carpenters or Roy Orbison, he was a traditionalist. He probably loved his mum, old ladies in general, and animals. He was kind and softly spoken. On the other hand, he might be — whisper it — a bit boring.

Boys who were into rock and roll might be a bit more edgy. It did depend, though, on whether they leaned more towards the Kinks than Led Zeppelin.

But what of boys who liked jazz, classical, or country? Somehow they were never mentioned.

Anyway, being a bit of a maverick, I selected boyfriends based on their reading lists. Since I have always been, I confess, a bit of a literary snob, I was drawn to those who like the classics, or contemporary novels that posed hard questions. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig was one such. Another was The White Hotel by DM Thomas. Both asked addressed issues of life and philosophy.

At some point I met a fellow, I’ll call him Henry, who adored The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien. Being similarly obsessed, we developed a friendship. Then Henry learned that I wrote. At first, it was fun. I was a nursing student at the time, so I didn’t have much time for writing, but every time I met Henry he demanded to know if I’d started the next chapter yet. It got to the point where that was all he wanted to talk about. Soon, I started avoiding him claiming, truthfully, that I had to focus on my upcoming exams.

In hindsight, I’m sympathetic to him and can appreciate his enthusiasm. It just came at the wrong time for me. It didn’t help that, apart from our interest in books and writing, we didn’t have much in common.

So what should you do if you meet a writer and feel that delightful tingle?

Tread slowly. Writers are not like other pets. They are demanding, peevish, insular, and often enjoy a good debate. They like their routines — except when they don’t. Most of them don’t like talking about their work, and many take criticism poorly. They are often broke. Some have bad habits. They don’t talk for days. They sometimes forget to bathe. They often swing between periods of hopelessness and the sort of glorification that would make Piers Morgan blush.

When the work is going well, or when they receive glowing reviews and royalty cheques, they can be generous, effusive, and even giddy with delight. Some will insist on reading those reviews to you, their hapless partner. They will want you to share this news with all your family and friends, convinced that they will be as awed as your aforementioned partner must be.

This can work well, if you genuinely admire Mr / Ms Writer’s writing. If it’s not your thing, you have to decide if you should fake it, or just admit that you don’t get it.

Of course no one, not even writers, are all one thing and one thing alone. We are parents, children, neighbours, employees, and friends. Even if you have a problem with the writing aspect of your other half’s life, you can still have a successful relationship if they are fairly normal in other parts of their lives.

All the same, tread with care. I mean, I’m a writer and I wouldn’t date me.

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