You don’t say…
C.E. Grundler
Okay, we’ll start this thing off by saying ‘Writer’ is my immediate response when asked what I do, and yes, I am quite proud of that fact. Most people who meet me, however, have no idea. I don’t tell them, and most time they never get around to asking. And that’s the way I like it.
I know, we’re supposed to go around announcing to the world that YES! we are indeed writers. We should wear shirts emblazoned with ‘Writer’ or maybe even get a tattoo. Early in the game that didn’t exactly come natural for me, and as I came to see that is, indeed, who I am, I still kept that ace up my sleeve.
That might seem counterproductive, as writers we’re supposed to stand proud and own the fact that we spend our days weaving words into (with any luck and a whole lot of editing) amazing, terrifying, wonderful worlds. Writers are magical, mystical beings, and the general non-writer population holds us and the ‘author’ dream in awe. I’ll admit that part is cool, it’s a great ego boost to watch how people react even if those awestruck individuals can’t imagine the reality of how really hard writing truly is. But its still something I rarely reveal. Why?
Simple. The moment the “I’m a writer,” cat is out of the bag, people stop talking about themselves and start asking about me. What do I write, how many books, what kind…and so on. Neato for the ego, but I’ve gone from potentially learning who-knows-what about this individual to talking about me — and that’s stuff I already know. When I meet someone new, I’d like to learn about them. People naturally love to talk about themselves and share their expertise but so rarely encounter people who take the time to really listen. I’d much rather learn about them than talk about me, and I’m ever amazed just how much people will open up to a sympathetic ear. Bartenders and cabbies, hairdresses and stripppers, I’m sure they’ll agree, and I’m sure that’s reflected in their tips. As writers, we don’t get tips, but these conversations are tips in themselves. I’ve crossed paths with retired cops, (“What was the worst case you can recall?” = some truly horrifying tales,) arson investigators, (“What was the most difficult case you ever handled?” = learning clever ways one might try to stump the arson squad,) insurance and fraud investigators, (“What’s the most audacious scam you encountered after Sandy” = oodles for the next book.) The more you pay attention, the more some people will unload, and most people are brimming with fascinating information if you just give them the green light to talk. Bottom line: just LISTEN. You never know what you might learn, what ideas it might launch or what connections you could ultimately make.
Oh, and when they run out of things to tell me or ask why I’m so curious, that’s when I mention that I’m a writer.
But really, that’s not all that interesting compared to…
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