“The Writer’s Drug Dealer”
by Sonya Redi
Are you tired of racking your mediocre brain for creative turns of phrase? Are you sick of living a life in which you mostly wear v-neck, beige colored sweaters with bright shirts underneath, to coffee shops where you sit at small tables alone with your laptop, attempting to befriend a witty paragraph? Is your family afraid that your slightly depressive, but at times clever personality, is never going to materialize itself into a profitable career, in spite of all your promises? Do the words: “No really, I’m smart, I know it doesn’t look like it by my lack of income, but I am” sometimes fall out of your mouth upon meeting new people? If so, I am the person you’ve been searching for! I am— dun, dun, dun—THE WRITER’S DRUG DEALER! Was that too grandiose? I do apologize, my excitement for THIS AMAZING OPPORTUNITY I AM OFFERING overtakes me at times. As you can tell by now, I am not “at one” with the words, such as you and others of your kind, but what I lack in the field of writing I more than make up for in entrepreneurship.
It all started a few years ago, at an Indian restaurant in the Tenderloin. I was sitting by myself, enjoying my curry as one does, when this couple, young, in their midtwenties, sat at the table across from mine. They were attractive enough, in that dull, intellectual, “I enjoy looking like one of the Beats” meets Zooey Deschanel way that is so common amongst college grads these days; but something was not right. They were indescribably sad. Like, from within, you know? From the bits of conversation I overheard (rude, don’t judge me) they were discussing their writing, or lack thereof. The girl was saying that she never had time to write anymore, now that she had some lame marketing job, and the guy was saying that even if he had time, he lacked inspiration. How he thought that his MFA would help, but he was more or less in the same position he had always been, except with more student debt. That’s when it hit me! These people needed help, and I could give it to them!
Name some of the greatest writers in history. Go ahead. What do they all have in common? Some history of drug use! I’ll prove it to you. Huxley— LSD and shrooms. Kerouac—Benzedrine and alcohol. Ginsberg —marijuana and LSD. Burroughs—LSD. Philip K. Dick— speed. Dylan Thomas—alcohol. Stephen King— cocaine. Dickens— opium. The list is practically endless. The point is, why should you be the only fool writing sober? These masters knew it, and the world rewarded them for it! It’s time you too took a deep dive into the unparalleled pools of creativity and opened your eyes like everyone else has: through the magical goggles of drugs!
I know this may sound dangerous, especially to those of you who were always the straight A students in your creative writing classes, but look at what this tame lifestyle has brought you. Take a second. Are you depressed yet? You should be, because I sure am. Isn’t it time you stopped dressing like one of the Beats, and started acting like one of them instead? It isn’t even set in stone that these drugs would have to be illegal either. Balzac wrote whilst drinking twenty cups of coffee a day, perhaps that’s what’s perfect for you! You can’t get enough of Hemingway’s style? Well, do you know what Hemingway loved? Alcohol! Another LEGAL drug! Of course, if you would rather jump start your first novel with a more intense ally, we have those too; wink, wink.
Seriously though, it’s simple. Just tell me what result or style you would like to infuse your writing with, and I’ll help you get there, like the best writing mentor you never had. Business has been so good I am even currently in touch with a web developer to help me set up my own app! That way whenever you want inspiration to hit (get it?) I’ll be at your doorstep, or the local bar/park. The choice is yours. You could achieve your dreams and become the successful writer you’ve been telling yourself in the mirror you can be, or you can continue to shake your fist in the air and whine to anyone in proximity of how your “juices aren’t flowin” today. Stop losing friends. Learn how to be a FUN, POPULAR, SUCCESSFUL, and CREATIVE human being. Your family will thank you. Ok, maybe not at first, but they aren’t going to complain after you buy them a new house thanks to your book deal. Isn’t it time you made them proud?
Note: The Writer’s Drug Dealer is not responsible for any addiction or unhealthy dependency that may occur. If any work written under the suggested influence gets published, The Writer’s Drug Dealer has the legal right to claim up to 30% of profits.
“I’m Worried My Memoir Will Be Too Boring”
by David Kramer
I feel the need to share something with you all. It’s something that has been plaguing my mind very much, and it is time to get it off my chest. I am worried that my life is not interesting enough for my future memoir.
True, I am only 22 years old. But my life has been fairly uneventful thus far. I grew up in a middle class family, graduated from college, and got a desk job. How is that going to sound in the memoir I am writing?
Many authors I have read in recent months have had life-altering experiences, or coming-of-age stories, or significant turning points: Tobias Wolff, Dave Eggers, and Cheryl Strayed. They’ve all had dramatic moments that have made fascinating subject matter for their respective memoirs. But where is my dramatic moment, my evolution? When will it happen? If it doesn’t, will my memoir be any good?
Sure, I have the option of fabricating pieces of my memoir like James Frey. I would love to be on Oprah discussing my highly successful memoir. But he really took a media beating once it was revealed to not be entirely true. Can I handle such criticism? I simply don’t know if I am capable. But if nothing happens to me soon, I might be forced to do so.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I know I am lucky to be raised in such a good home. But would it have killed my parents to have a tumultuous relationship? Would it have been the end of the world if there was a drinking problem in there somewhere, maybe infidelity or a hospital visit on my birthday? I think I could write 350 pages on that alone.
On the other hand, its not just my family’s fault. Perhaps I made some missteps along the way. Was college a good idea? I mean sure, I graduated in 4 years, but what good fodder is that? I can imagine a terrific book about a cross-country road trip after high school, or perhaps a job in the circus.
Now I know this isn’t the end of the road. I’m still in my 20s, and many a great memoir have been written about the later years. But I’m starting to run out of time, and I don’t want to have to force myself to hike the Appalachian Trail.