Writer On Strike!





My cardboard sign is printed and stapled to a broken shovel handle.

I have a thermos of coffee and a sandwich or two stuck in my jacket pocket.

I’m ready for the picket line.

I tried to convince them, my family, that when my door is closed and the muffled sounds of talk radio or a Brewer game are heard, that’s my time to write. My thought process as it is doesn’t take much to interrupt and the next great  idea can disappear  in a wisp of e-smoke.

They, on the other hand expect me to be at their beck and call, dropping everything to respond to perceived “emergencies” like an exploding toilet or when my wife’s mother died.

I tried to make the funeral but was totally engrossed in editing two paragraphs of the greatest story ever told.

I kind of liked her too.

So, it’s come to this. No more household chores, no more responding to cuts, bruises or dog poop. I’m walking out, on strike for better writing conditions.

These are my demands.

  1. From the hours of 9AM until noon I am to be in my office undisturbed except when I emerge for something to eat or more coffee. While enroute to the refrigerator others must remember that I am deep in thought and cannot be bothered. A simple nod of acknowledgement will suffice.
  2. 1PM (after a lunch break) to 3:30 PM, I will be available to take on assignments around the house, school or hospital by appointment only. Appointments may be made Mon-Thurs between the hours of 1-3:30 PM, by appointment.
  3. Exceptions may be made for Emergency Government confirmed severe weather emergencies, but only if food is running low and deaths in the immediate family are eminent. Immediate family to be defined as; spouse, legal dependents, the dog (especially if he dies in the house) and select relatives by previously negotiated agreement.
  4. 3:30PM to whenever I wake up-nap time. Then it’s time to get ready for dinner, a short walk and a couple more hours of editing before bed.

This schedule is to be followed Mon-Friday with arbitrary substitutions for Saturday and Sunday if the fish are biting. After all, my creative batteries must be recharged from time to time.

“Hey, where’s everyone going? What’s the moving van doing here? You just can’t do that without an appointment! I do have a say in what goes on around here!”

“Oh look at the time,  3:30.”


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