Trigger Warning: Stereotypes. Oh, and the writer relinquishes all responsibility for any decisions directly or indirectly influenced by this. *smirk* Shall we?
Don’t date a writer, he cannot keep a secret. He’ll write about your most embarrassing moment, as his own or a fictional character, with fancier words and more vivid description and no, you do not get credit for it. Poetic license, he’ll claim.
And to exacerbate this, he has a rare ability to inveigle information out of you such that you find yourself saying “You know, I’ve never told anyone that.” grrr. The problem is he asks a lot of questions. Unnecessary questions.
Dating a writer is a lot like dating Adele. When she sings about a jerk, you are the jerk. Over enthusiastic fans will hate you and no one will ever listen to your side of the story. She’ll say her heart was carelessly(yes, she’ll say carelessly) strewn by an undeserving fellow and we will all feel her pain and hate you without meeting you.
Don’t date a writer, he lives most of his life in his head. He is constantly turning things over in his head and *now whispering* he has full fledged conversations with the voices in his head. You’re lucky if he does not talk to himself out loud. Case in point, he is a psycho who does not exhibit enough of it to be in hospital. Call it mild schizophrenia. Oh, and there’s very little chance you’ll be part of the life in his head.
It is common knowledge, writers are drunks. If not, caffeine addicts or some dangerous beverage and they’ll excuse themselves by saying Ernest and Charles were drunks but great writers too. There must be a correlation. (Yes, they like to call dead writers by their first names like you should be knowing they were referring to Hemingway and Bukowski as though they live in the flat opposite yours. You’re lucky if he does not call Shakespeare William.) Save yourself, don’t go through this.
Anha! on that note, they think they are too good for cliches. Oh, you should know how cliche they are though. They like red velvet and Sia but they’ll expect you, their muse, to like sugarless scones and Italian contemporary. They’ll want you to challenge their opinion and give them 100 different views; what the Greek would do, how the Jewish think, what the atheist would say, Trump, Mugabe…you don’t have time for this. They are in life for the thrill and baby, you have dreams to chase.
He’ll use ‘somnolent’ instead of ‘drowsy’. Friendzone him. Don’t tolerate that arrogance.
Dear reader, if she is a poet, don’t even ask for her number. She thinks she is a goddess. You’ll have to read the thesaurus and a bunch of books by dead people because “Beautiful is a lousy and lazy way to describe me*” she’ll say. Find someone that doesn’t demand so much of yourself and is easy to impress, don’t date a poet.
He is on The New Yorker and Paris Review as much as you are on Twitter and SnapChat(weirdos just *rolls eyes*). You know those annoying people who can send you a link to anything? Did you say you sleep a lot? Here’s a link on hypersomnia. Did you say you can’t remember something? Here, it happened to people who were in the Auschwitz too. Blah blah blah. He has been through the cobwebs of the inter-web (see what I did there? No? Yeah, me neither) or dusty bookshelves and have unimportant information like how Rowling came up with the word ‘muggle’. Don’t settle for this, please don’t.
Don’t date a writer, she’ll write something like this and still expect you to date her 😉
Next Post: Guide to Dating a Writer
*From the book, Questions for Ada by Ijeoma Umebinyuo. I know, I need to get over myself and stop quoting her.