I used to think I was special. However, after a bit of reflection, it seems that I 100% personify a lot of douchey writer stereotypes. Damn it.
It started off small. A leather-bound notebook here, a vintage typewriter there. The next thing I knew, I woke up and I was a full-blown douche of a writer.
When I started out as a writer, I swore I would never turn into Brian from Family Guy, who is a satiric model of the modern writer/asshole. Sadly, I think I am becoming more and more like Brian every day.
In an attempt to be honest about my problem, here is my inventory of douche writer traits and how I self-justify them.
1. My Notebook
Yes, I paid good money to buy a brown leather-bound notebook. And, yes, I refer to it as my journal. It’s not a diary, Ok? It’s a journal! So there.
I’ve seen other writers carry these around. Some will whip them out in client meetings to take notes. My journal is definitely not for meetings. There is simply no way I will risk leaving it behind or it falling into the wrong hands.
I don’t need coworkers or clients reading about the time I shit my pants during Earth Hour 2014.
2. My Glasses
If you wanted an actor in a movie or TV show to look like a writer (or nerd), you would give them my glasses. Someone wearing my glasses instantly looks like a writer, nerd, or hipster. I’ve been pegged as all 3.
But, to be fair, people with round and cherubic faces owned the thick black glasses market long before hipsters moved in.
If I wore thin circular glasses, I would look like a book-smart sperm whale.
3. My ‘Quirky’ Playlists
Ok, I have black-belt level self-justification for this one.
I am on Google Play just about every minute of every day. I need to listen to non-lyrical music while I work. If the music has lyrics, I can’t concentrate, but I need “something.” These very specific needs have led me to a lot of playlists that one could call quirky.
Some of my most-frequently-spun work playlists include:
- Beats Without Rhymes
- American Primitivism
- Instrumental Soul Grooves
- Instrumental Hip Hop Morning
- Lofi Loft
- Trip Hop Instrumentals
- The Sphere of Thelonious Monk
I can also listen to anything by Vitamin String Quartet or Khruangbin all day.
Douchey music? Yeah, probably. But it’s better than being alone with my own thoughts. I’m afraid of those.
4. My Office
Sigh. This is where the evidence really starts to pile up.
Let’s start with my desk. I unapologetically bought a pretentious antique desk, with an old school fold-out typewriter shelf. And guess what sits on that shelf? Yup, my equally-pretentious antique typewriter.
I actually recently moved my typewriter from my antique desk to my reclaimed wood desk. Yes… I have two douche-desks because, clearly, one isn’t enough to get me through the day. When I put my leather notebook next to my typewriter, I am truly the worse version of myself.
5. My Naps
People with regular jobs, you are fully within your rights to find me and punch me.
Yes, I have been known to take a mid-day nap. And by “been known to take” I mean “have become hopelessly dependent on.”
I am guilty of napping. However, I can say I have stopped self-justifying my naps by saying things that writers, artists and other creative-types might say, like:
- I need to reboot
- I’m burnt out, creatively
- I deserve/ have earned a rest
- I’m no good when I’m this tired
- Blah blah self care blah blah
- I’m gonna crush this after a quick nap
I have accepted that my job is not particularly hard. Other people literally save goddamn lives at their jobs. They do not get to nap. I am not entitled to nap during the day. I am, in fact, simply a lazy sack of shit.
6. My… Alcoholism
A lot of writers enjoy a “wee bit of the creature.” Do I drink? Certainly. However, these days most of my heavier drinking is limited to Raptor playoff games, seeing old friends, special occasions, or Earth Hour.
I’ve always described my drinking habit as “the upper end of social.” Mainly because that’s how Hunter S. Thompson describes his in the Rum Diary and… Jesus S. Christ, typing that really made me realize what a massive douche I am. Wow.
If you asked me a few weeks ago, I would have told you that there is absolutely no way I was a douche-writer. But, now that I’ve had a chance to step back and look at things, I can safely say that I’m beyond saving at this point.
Oh well. If the black Chuck Taylor All-Star shoe fits, wear it.